MARCH
25 CENTS
mmm
A NEW LIFETIME BUSINESS
NO HIGH PRESSURE SELLING
NO HOUSE-TO-HOUSE CANVASSING
INCOME EQUAL TO REQUIREMENTS OF
THE HIGH-GRADE BUSINESS MAN
E. Lawson, of Tennessee, clears $108 profit liis first S da/s
in this business. He tops oft these earnings wjth $113 profit
on a single deal a few days later. J. C. May, Conn., cleared
$262.35 the first nine days he worked. J. E. Loomis, Oregon,
earns $245 Ills first 9 days. A. W. Farnsworth, Utah, nets
$64.16 his first day. a Saturday. S. Clair, New York, w^rites
he is clearing as high as $70 a day. W. F, Main, Iowa, cleans
up $291.50 in 9 days. B. Y. Becton, Kansas,, starts out with
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rich field that is creating new money-making frontiers for wide-awake
men. Those who enter now will pioneer — to them will go the choicest
opportunities. _ . _ ___ a
r
BUSINESS SPECIALTY ON FREE TRIAL - MAKING
• TREMENDOUS CASH SAVINGS IN OPERATING COSTS FOR THOUSANDS
j OF CONCERNS THROUGHOUT THE U S. AND CANADA
$4,707 SAVINGS
« ^ ~ m America s foremost concerns are among our custom-
rOr Une JyEnsaS otpre M ers: Timken Silent Automatic Co., Central States
In Two Months I M m Petroleum Corp., Houghton Mifflin Co., National Paper
x>'A J! rr t-'M m Co., International Coal, General Brake Service, National
J m Radio, and scores of others nationally known. Thousands
l ..j - .li I # of Small businesses everywhere, professional businesses,
April 5th 1 *'!*!■ m such as schools, hospitals, infirmaries, doctors, dentists,
“ber"anrF^'’d??Test''vrr: H A nUIFliA I installations and heavy repeat orders..-
fhvlnb wefPover $®i,oSS? 9 tzl± f Customcr Guaranteed Cash Profit
Fox Ice and Coal Co,, Wis- ■ Customer gets signed certificate guaranteeing cash profit oa
consin, saves $3,564.00 I Bal- BmW I Ms investment. Very few business men are so foolish a- tt tun. down
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invests $45, saves $1.600 ! Hi Every man witn us toaay ■ cerns that it does pay. Protect'd by surety bonded National organ!-
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tion. New York, invests $15, w\ previous experience, many*
&aves $686,451 With these Wtl coming out of clerking jobs, ■ uOrtlOllO Ol lv6l6r6llC€S iPOItl
and sMres of similar results H\ many out of small bu^-B Amcrica’s Leading ConCCmS
to displi^, our representatives ^R\ nesses, some out oi large ■
interest every business man wlil concerns. We teach you M is furnished you. A handsome, impressive portfolio that repre.sents
from the verv smallest to the «\ every angle of the business, m every leading tj-pe of business and profession You show immedl-
voi.'u' XT *l\ Wc bnTid vniT fbe Mereest m Positive proof of success. Immediately forestalls the
very largest. No one can dis- 96 \ We hand you ^ 4 ? * argument, “Doesn’t tit my business.” Shotvs that it does lit,
pute the proof in the photo- money-making business oi does make good. Closes the deal,
cop^ of actual letters which our men its kind in the country. 9 ^
m\ You try out this business H Mail Coupoii foT Information
NO HIGH PRESSURE— ^ 1?ut msKiNG A MID \ i com.ifte training furnished. You try out this buslnes#^
STMPT.V TTsr<ilTATT n rv xs w d rp'MT’mpm M absolutely without risking a penny. If you are looking
^ ^ a man-size business free from the worries of
SELLS ITSELF ' your own. Cant pos- other overcrowded lines, get in touch with us at once.
sibly tell you all in the ▼ ■ Use the coupon for convenience. It will bring you our
Here is a business offering an inven- v limited space available I proposition immediately.
NjUL here. Mail the coupon —
itself. Our representatives simply tell nnw fnr full infnr- I I
what they offer, show proof of success matiM-nothingr | MAIL FOR PULL INFORMATION! |
to risk, every- | F, E. ARMSTRONQ, Pres., Dept. 4034-C. Mobile, Ala. l
Of the country. Then install the specialty without a xSKBL. pbirfcr +rk«rm*n • ..... , » „ . » .. I
dollar down.- It starts working at once, ' producing a tnmg xo^aiii. ; \%ithout obligation to me, send me full information on .
(!ash saving that can be counted just like the cash * your proposition, I
register money. The customer sees with his own eyes a I f
big, immediate profit on his proposed investment. I sually m Name *
he has the investment, and his profit besides, before the | * ,
representative returns. The representative calls back, a .
collects his money. OUT OP EVERY $75 BimiNESS THE Street or Route I
BEPRESBNTATITE„ DOES, NEARLY $60 IS HIS OWN PROFIT! *
THE SMALLEST HE MAKES IS $5 ON A $7.50 INSTALLATION! Pnv Va I
Our men are making sales running into the hundreds. They are getting the • * ’
attention of the largest concerns in the country, and selling to the smaller | ' |
businesses by the thousands. You can get exclusive rights. Business is GOOD, ■ City ,
in this line, in small towns or big city alike! IPs on the boom now. Get in white I {
the business is young! | |
F. €- ARMSTIIONG, IPresident, Oept, 4034>C, IViOBILE, ALABAMA L- — ~ J
AMAZING STORIES
105^
f 75 a Weefc
im P©toMMsl
Mj graduate, R. N®
Dobbins, got a job
immediately after
fiaisbing my coiirae.
Now he's earning
$76 a week as Chief
Instructor at a big
Aviation Sehool In
New York!
fi-i' ^ ’
You How to
Walter Hinton
EARN $60 to $100 a Week
and UP in AVIATIOMI
My up-to-date home study Course gives you the ground work you need to
get and keep a real job in this fascinating, fast growing industry. Scores
of my graduates, who didn’t know a thing about Aviation a few months
ago, are holding down fine jobs right now — in the air and on the ground.
Over forty different types of jobs to choose from, once you have this
necessary training. Get the facts about my practical training, free Era
ployment Service and Money-Back Agreement NOW !
First to fly the Atlan*
tic I flrst to fly to South
America i first to ex>®
plore the upper regions
of the Amazon by
plane. Flying Instruc-
tor in Navy for five
years. Now giving am-
bitious men practical
ground work training
in Aviation at home. If
you are 18 or ©ver„ mail
the coupon below for
your copy of Iiia big
naw FEES Book today.
I Teach You ^UICKIiY —
at Mouie in Your Spare Tltue
You don^t need to gi¥e up yonr present job— don^t need to
leave home, to get your training in Aviation. IVe made it
easy for you. IVe put my own fifteen years of experience-
backed by over 400,000 miles of flying— five years of in-
structing in the Navy— all into my thorough, quickly
mastered home study Course.
No Previous Experience Needed
You don*'t even need a high school education
'—-don't have to know anything about planes
or engines to learn the ground work of Avia-
tion with my Cksurse. Everything is clearly
explained-— Illustrated by hundreds of pictures,
drawings and charts— -made as simple and easy
as possible. You get all the information you
need to pass the Government’s written exam-
inations for Mechanic’s or Pilot’s Licenses, in
n few short months. If you want to learn to
fly, I can save you many times the cost of my
Course on your flying time at good airports
fill over the country.
wm-mm
Airplane RM@!
Fll Help Wmm Get m Smb
My nation-wide Employment
Department is at your service
—the minute you are Qualified
to accept a job in Aviation.
We are constantly in touch
with scores of airports^ plane
factories, etc., that want J
trained men for good jobs M
paying from $40 to $100 a jm
week. No extra charge to
graduates for this extra
service. Free Book tells
all about how I help my
graduates get the kind
’.I
1
iV-
Bight now I’m mak-
ing an offer of a free
airplane ride to all of
my students. Write
me at once and I’ll
send you complete
information. Act now
■ — ^to get in on this
fine offer— while it is
still open I
of jobs they want I
Mail the coupon now.
' ' " "Wi
Tliere^s N® Time T@ Lose—
Get II j FREE Book MOW I
Walter Hinton, President,
Aviation Institute of U, S. A., lac.
1115 ConlEecticut Avenue, Washington, D* C.
6'75-Z
Aviation is growing by leabs and bounds— while many other industriM
are slumping. Don’t wait and let the other fellows get ahead of you.
Think about your own future. Let me prepare you for a job paying $60
to $100 a week or more— in Aviation. Get the FACTS. Mail the handy
coupon on the right today-right now— while you’re thinking about it.
Ill send you my Mg new FREE Book— packed with interesting facts
about your opportunities in Aviatioa., Mail eoiipom NOW.
Please send me a Free copy of your book, “Wings of Opportunity/^
telling ail about my opportunities in Aviation, how you will train
me at home and help me get job.
Name
(Print clearly)
WALT 13 S MIMTOFI, Fresident
Address
a ix;-;
Amazing Stories
Vol. 7
JPLES VERNE’S TOMBSTONE AT AMIENS
PORTRAYINe HIS IMMOBTALITY
In Our April Issue
BEYOND THE END OF SPACE, by John W.
Campbell^ Jr. The second and concluding m-
stallment of this story will be given in the
April magazine. , What it will be our readers
can judge from, the interesting part printed in
this issue. We are sure that it will be web
corned by everybody.
WHEN THE COMET RETURNED, by Harl
Vincent. We feel that this narration by Harl
Vincent will be highly appreciated by our read-
ers. He is one of their favorite authors and
it is a matter of regret to us that he has been
crowded out of our recent issues. No one can
deal with the interplanetary world and astro-
nomical stories better than he.
THE PHANTOM OF TERROR, by Ed Earl
Repp. This tale has been pronounced by an
eminent critic^ who has read it and reported to
us on its merits^ as being one of the best stories
he has read in a long while. The name of the
author should be enough in itself to excite the
interest of our readers, but Ed Earl Repp has
done unusually well in this effort.
THE MEMORY STREAM, by Warren E. Sand-
ers. This is quite a charming story, taking us
back to the time of the Neanderthal man and
describing vividly episodes of the cave life of
those days.
lUc Fiction
March, 1933
No. 12
CONTENTS
The Tomb of Time
By Richard Tooker.,.,,
1062
Beyond the End of Space
(Serial in Two Parts— Part 1)
By John W. Campbells Jr......
1096
What Do You Know?
(Science Questionnaire ) . . . . ,
1112
In the Scarlet Star
By Jack Williamson , . . .
1113
Stellarite
By Richard Rush Murray ,
Stallion’s Trappings
By Dean CoUms. .
,1122
1135
Reverie (A Poem)
By Forrest Elliott,,..,
1136
Flame« Worms of Yokku
By Hal K, Wells.,.,..,,.,,..
1137
Book Reviews ............................. 1145
Discussions. 1146
Published Monthly by Teck Publications ^ Inc., Washington and South Avenues^ Dunellens N. X
EDITORIAL AND EXECUTIVE OFFICES
OFFICERS 222 WEST 39th STREET, NEW YORK CITY, N. Y. Copy, $2.50 a
Lee Ellmaker, President Entered as second class matter at the Post Office at Dtinellen,
Warren P. Jeffery f ^ Jn nnder the act of March 3, 1879. Copyright, 1933, by
Huston D Griooen I Teck Publications, Inc. All rights reserved. Title Registered
® A ? „ S't the U. S. Patent Office. Printed in the United States of
r. B. Dittenderier, i reasuret America. The contents of this magazine must not be reproduced
A® Germane, Secretary without permission. We cannot be responsible for lost manu®
scripts, although every care is taken for their safety.
25e a Copy, $2.50 a year®
$5.00 in Canada, $3.50 in
Foreign Countries. Sub-
scribers are notified that
change of address must reach
ms five weeks in advance of
the next date of issue®
1058
AMAZING STORIES
1059
Because tie couldn’t entertain
ARE you like the man in this picture
. . ruled out^ discriminated against^
barred from parties and popularity
which others enjoy?
Man or woman ^ you are probably just
as attractive^ just as interesting^ just as
clever as any one else. Yet others seem
always to capture all the good times while
you alone are left out in the cold.
Why? Find out why . . . answer that
question . . . and the bars that shut you
out will fade away and disappear.
Most people who miss the good times
that come with popularity are them-
selves to blame. Friends and acquain-
tances would gladly invite you out^ ask
you to parties^ if only you had something
to offer that would add to the general
gaiety. For that^ after alb is why we
have parties « * . to get together and
entertain each other.
And yet^ so many girls and men
think the ability to entertain is a special
talent. If you mention music (the
greatest single factor in popularity)
they say^ can never learn
to play the piano or any
other instrument. I am too
old, Fll need a special pri-
vate teacher. It will cost so
much and take so long.
NOj not for me.”
And so they remain, barred
outside because they don^t
realize that today no one
needs to be a musical genius
to learn to play . . . that
thousands like them have ac-
quired a priceless musical
education, right in their own
homes, without teachers,
without tremendous expense,
without tedious practicing
FICK Youm
INSTHUMENT
Piano
Organ
Ukulele
Cornet
Trom&oni
Piccolo
Guitar
Hawaiian Steel Guitar
Sight Singing
Plano Accordion
Itai-ian and German
Accordion
Voice and Speech Culture
Harmony and Composition
Drums and Traps
Automatic Finger
Control
Banjo (Plectrum, 5-
Strfng or Tenor)
Juniors” Plano Course
and boring scales,
Fmget Theories-— What SWpWi
Others Mam 0@ne
Already over six hundred thousand men
and women have chosen this new method
of learning music. Every one of them felt
that something was missing from their lives.
Ever so many must have been just as dis-
couraged as you may now be. And every
single one of them chose this method of
learning to play their favorite instrument.
Most of them started towards real popu-
larity by coming across just such an adver-
tisement as this. At first they may have
doubted that it could be true , . , that a way
had been found to make learning to play
easy, delightful and inexpensive instead of
boring and prohibitive because of the cost
of private teachers.
But every one of them read the offer we
are now going to make to you. And every
one of them proved to their own satisfac-
tion that they could actually learn to play
in their owm homes, without a teacher, in
half the usual time and at a cost of only
a few cents a day I
Make up your mind right now to read
this offer through. Take ad-
vantage of the opportunity
it brings you, yet place your-
self under no obligation.
Here it is , , , the offer that
convinced over six hundred
thousand men and women
that the U. S, School of
Music Method was the ideal
way for them to learn to
play.
Vl&lin
Clarinet
Flute
SaxopliOTi
Harp
Mandolin
'Cello
Send For Free Booklet
And Demonstration
Lesson
The U, S, School of Music
will send you a complete,
explanatory booklet and a
Free Demonstration lesson, illustrating hi
method of teaching. All you promise to dc
is to read through both book and lesson . , ,
thoroughly.
Nothing more is asked of you because wc
know that, once you see this booklet, yot
will be convinced that you, too, can lean
to play your favorite instrument by note . .
playing real tunes right from the start. Yoi
won^t have to be urged or coaxed. Yot
will urge us to hurry your first lessons to you
That'S a fair offer, isn^t it? You havi
to be satisfied before you begin.
Now is your chance. If you want popu-
larity, if you would like to be able to enter-
tain and surprise your friends, to maki
real music-jazz or classical-roll from youj
finger tips the minute you sit down to pla)
-—ACT NOW! Clip and mail this coupor
today! No obligation. Instruments sup-
plied when needed, cash or credit. U. S
School of Music, 863 Brunswick Building
New York City.
Thirty-mh Year (Established 1898} ■
U. S. SCHOOL OF MUSIC
863 Brunswick Building, New York City
Please send me your free book, “How You Cai
Master Music in Your Own Home/* with inspir
ing message by Dr. Frank Crane, Free Demon
stration Lesson and particulars of your eas]
payment plan, I am interested in the followini
course.
Have You
Instrument ?
Name.
Address . ,
City . .
a e a & 0
9 @ 9 @ @ d 9
%
- • V'\ '
I'm going to give $3,5O§«00 Cash to some deserving man
or Woman; $1^000*00 to another; $600*00 to a third;
f200,00 to a fourth— 25 Big Gash Prizes in alh total-
ing $6^000.00^ and 200 additional Grand Prizes worth
Hundreds of Dollars* Every month I am distributing
many^ many other rewards worth hundreds and thousands
of dollars. Sounds too good to be true? But it is tm©
and here are my reasons for doing so; We have a
big manufacturing plant. We are one of the country's
large distributors of famous Beauty and Household
Products^ and this stupendous Cash Distribution is a
part of our mation- wide advertising campaign, Evep^
dollar spent in this gigantic Cash Dis&ibution. will
help ma&e our products known in every community.
You see, this is our way of advertising.
Think What $3,500.00 Would Mean In Your Life!
YOU NEED ONLY SEND YOUR NAME
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No liouse-tO“house canvassing. It*s not a ^’'Good Luck” chance.
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teacher mechanic, clerk or ^ farm boy •— everybody over li
years of age has an opportunity. YOU have a real chance to
win 13,500.00 or any of 226 Big Grand Prizes,
HUNDREDS HAVE WON
S@iid Ne Money, there’s only one fhingfo do now!
Throughout the past year we have given away hundreds and thou®’
sands of dollars in Big Cash Prizes — in all parts of the United
States. It^s Your Opportunity To Win ~ NOW!
Mrs. Elizabeth
Gritzke, New
York, won over
$1,600.00. She
writes! . the
squares t firm I
ever dealt with,”
Just write your name and address on the coupon below and
mail it in an envelope or paste it on a one-cent postal card.
Many big fortunes have started with only a coupon, a name? and
a postage stamp or postal. Send YOUB name today — YOUH
fortune may depend just upon this coupon I
Jo© Walsh, a
miner in
Pennsylvania,
won $4,700,00
In Cash
Prizes.
r: o;\-i rv i! \
ie Prompf! $ 1 ' Cash Csrflieafe At Once!
To make it worth your while to be prompt in sending your name
if you will see that your letter or postal card is postmarked not
more than three days after you read this notice, I will send you a
$100,00 Cash Promptness Certificate AT ONCE, entitling you to an
extra $100,00 in Cash, should you be the fortunate winner of the
First Grand Prize.
TOM WOODj Manager,
H»0 BiiiMing, Dept® A«4(l©-D, Cincinnati, OMo.
Yes, tell me qnickly, without any obligation or expense
on my part, how I can, win $3^600.00 and enjoy happy,
carefree days again.
My name is,
TOM WOOD, Manager
H.O Ssilldling Depf. A«400-D Ciiielnnati, Ohio
Address
Town,...,...,,,....,......,,,..,,.....,,,.........,. State.
Date I read this offer.
1. ^ :-!$ - * -fj . v.
The Slow Advance of Early Science
By T. O’Conor Sloane, Ph.D,
HE work of Archimedes took two trends. One was
in the direction of engineering. Extraordinary
stories are told of his work with the lever with
which, it is said, that he enabled King Hieron to
lift a ship by an application of this first of the
^^mechanical powers.’’ He is supposed to have done
a great deal to defend Syracuse when it was at-
tacked by the Romans, and it is told of him that when the
siege was over he was working on some problem in the sand
of the seashore v/hen he was wantonly killed by a soldier. He
seemed rather to minimize his engineering work, considering that
it was of little importance or dignity, compared to his work in
geometry and mathematics. The monumental discovery is attrib-
uted to him of the determination of the specific gravity of
metals, or objects heavier than water. It is told of him that
it occurred to him when he was entering his bathtub and watched
the overflow of the water and that he hailed the discovery by
rushing through the streets in complete dishabille, calling out,
'' Eureka—l have found”— the word “it” being presumably under-
stood. It gave him a method of determining whether a jeweler
had cheated the king by substituting silver for gold in his crown.
It is even said that Archimedes approached the calculus in his
work which put him centuries ahead of his time.
As we come down the ages, we read of other scientists who
developed or illustrated the laws of ph 3 ^sics and some of them
made most curious blunders. Otto Van Guericke did wonderful
work on the pressure of the atmosphere. He had constructed
two hemispheres of metal and by using a leather washer made
a tight joint between them, using the air pump of which he
is claimed as the inventor ; he pumped out air from between them,
thus establishing a practical vacuum. To illustrate its intensity,
he had two teams of horses attached to it— one team for each
hemisphere, so as to pull against each other—but they could not
separate the hemispheres. The experiment, with many other of
his achievements, are illustrated in woodcut in a contemporaneous
book by him. But the point involved in his experiments about
the hemispheres is one that has attracted little attention. If he
had attached one hemisphere to a post or a tree, for instance, and
had one of the teams of horses pull the other hemisphere,
they would have produced just as great a strain as double the
number had in the first case, and this seems never to have oc-
curred to the ingenious old-time scientist.
It was believed for many generations that a large mass, such
as a big stone, being pulled against the earth by many pounds,
would fall faster than would a smaller one, because the smaller
one is not pulled down so hard. But the fact was overlooked
that it required more force to move the big stone than to move
the small one, Galileo v/ould not accept this idea, so to con-
1061
fute it did what might have been done thousands of years
before ; he threw a large and small stone from the same height
and both reached the ground simultaneously, or practically so,
the resistance of the air not being sufficient to invalidate the
experiment.
Various methods have been used for measuring time, Jn the
line of water clocks and sand glasses and the like. It is said
that in the Cathedral of Pisa Galileo noticed that the altar
lamp took the same time for each swing, whether the swing was
long or short. Of course, this was an approximation to the truth,
but this was near enough to figure as the isochronism of the pen-
dulum. The escapement of the clock followed.
These few examples illustrate the slow progress of science.
Galileo’s work was done in the seventeenth century, nearly two
thousand j^ears after Archimedes, His discovery of the motion
of the moons of Jupiter gave him the idea of the planetary
system, though the absolute proof of the ^ motion of the earth
around the sun came many years after his time. It is inter-
esting to note that Galileo died in 1642, the year of the birth
of Sir Isaac Newton.
Slow as the science of physics progressed, chemistry did worse.
The alchemists devoted their energies largely to the transmuta-
tion of metals, trjung to get gold and silver out of the baser
metals such as lead, and building up a very fanciful scheme of
nomenclature of which a great deal remains to the present day.
Thus ashes of wood were boiled in a pot of water, a solution
of potassium carbonate was obtained, so the name of “potash” is
inherited from the old makers of the compound from wood ashes.
The name pyrites, whose root is the Greek word meaning fire,
has been affixed to native iron sulphide, from which sparks
could be struck, and the ancient name has been slightly modified
and pyrite is the native mineraiogical name of iron bisulphide.
Exactly when the name originated might be quite hard to deter-
mine. The old chemists, not satisfied with the idea that when
a substance increases in weight something has been added to it,
invented an absurd affair called phlogiston, which when added
to a substance was supposed to take away its weight, and this
absurdity was believed in by the world of chemists for a num-
ber of years. Therefore when iron gained weight when heated
ill the air, instead of believing that something had been added
to it, which something really is ox^^gen, the phlogiston theory
was that phlogiston was taken awa^^ from it and it increased
in weight. If they had been able to isolate such a thing as
phlogiston, they would have had the anti-gravitator of our mod-
ern tales of interplanetary travel. Then when iron oxide was re-
duced to metal and of course weighed less than the oxide, it
was said that phlogiston was added to it and buoyed it up, as
a life preserver would buoj^ up a drowning man.
The
m
By Richard Tooker
7ty§ ANY of our readers who have visited the Luray caves in Virginia and the
Mammouth cave of Kentucky^ those who have gone to Bermuda and have
seen the beautifully illuminated cave in the coral rock of the Island will be
deeply interested in this story ^ which depicts wonderful adventures far under-
ground by three explorers and their perilous encounters^
Illustrated by MOREY
CHAPTER I
I T was my friend Roger Anson who was responsible
for that second expedition into Comanche Cave,
which was fated to leave me a disappointed
scientist, withal a very happy man. Roger was
one of those wealthy, influential citizens who are
continually promoting enterprises in behalf of scientifiic
progress. In fact, his amateur enthusiasm was so ex-
treme that had he always followed his own inclinations
he might have done more harm than good. My position
as assistant curator of the Colorado Western-Indian
Museum had enabled me to cultivate his acquaintance,
and though he was all of fifteen years my senior, he in-
sisted that I call him Roger. As he said, I seemed older
in mind than he, and certainly he was a Tom Sawyer
who never would grow old.
When he was admitted to my office that sunny June
morning, I knew immediately that some new project was
afoot, and I was prepared for anything from a treasure
hunt in the South Seas to an expedition among the
Eskimos in search of Roald Amundsen's body. Roger
was short, ruddy and apparently rather fat, though he
was every ounce hard muscle and could wear out many
a far younger man on the killing trails he followed to
adventure in every quarter of the world's wildernesses.
When excited he had the appearance of a human dynamo
about to fly to pieces from excess rate of rotation. His
keen, blue eyes, that never had needed glasses, were shin-
ing with pent-up high spirits when he sat down in the
buffalo horn armchair where I received my visitors
among the bizarre trophies and curios that were the
emblems of my profession.
^^Bob,” he began, ^fit's too good to keep. You will
recall that I was never satisfied with our first expora-
tions of Comanche Cave. I always did feel that we
hadn^t covered the ground thorough^ enough ; and now
Ed Struthers and Charley Van Mar have returned from
their hunting trip in Middle Park to verify my sus-
picions."
‘^So they visited the cave?"
^'Yes." He shifted his position with that well con-
trolled, nervous impatience that always preceded an elo-
quent and inspired outburst. ^'And as luck would have
it, I happen to be one of Struthers' best friends, a sort of
father confessor. He told me something he probably
would never have mentioned to one he didn't absolutely
trust. Furthermore, Van Mar testifies to the truth of
what Struthers reported, and they are both as sober as
judges about it."
'You mean they found important chambers which w^e
failed to map ?"
"Probably^ — ^yes, that's included." He shifted farther
out on the edge of the chair, and I knew that the real
revelation w^as forthcoming. "But that isn't what in-
terested me. They claim to have heard sounds in the
chamber I believe we named Hamlet Hall — sounds that
resembled the human voice. Moreover, they found a
footprint which must have escaped us. Now just a
minute— I know that the fact that the footprint was hu-
manlike doesn't mean anything. If it were merely that,
it would have been made by a modern species of Indian.
But it w^as only part human, according to Struthers, and
it was in hard rock, implying great age. It looks to me
like a clue to the forgotten past if there ever was such
a clue."
"Interesting," I admitted, "but it isn't likely that the
footprint could have been of prehistoric type. You know
we have little or no evidence of primitive man in North
America."
"What about the Calaveras skull?" he shot at me — ^an
old argument; and before I could reply that it was as
much pro as con regarding the Calaveras skull,* he was
off again.
It’s worth investigating, Bob. If we can find a trace
of man in the primeval state, we can overturn a lot of
scientific dogma prevalent in the United States. It would
mean a big reputation for you. Understand, Struthers
isn't one who could be easily deceived, and Van Mar
knows a little about geology. I feel there is enough in
their story of the footprint to warrant another expedi-
tion. And on top of that are those voices which they
were unable to locate. You know that Hamlet Hall had
the properties of a huge, concave sounding board —
sounds made in the distance underground often echoed,
or resounded, in the thin formations of the place, and
at the same time we proved that no sounds made outside
could be heard so far back in the cave."
* The Calaveras skull was unearthed by Prof. J. D. Whitney in
Calaveras County, California in 1886 , and was believed by him to be
evidence of a type of New World man older than the Indian.
1062
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. * . before Roger gave the word and
two rifles and a pistol crashed deafen
ingly in the silence. We could not
have missed a vital organ at that dis
tance, and the horrible croaking and
thunderous flapping^ which followed,
revealed that the creature had been
hard hit.
* -Vk*'
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1063
1064
AMAZING STORIES
“You're sure no one was lost in the cave?'' I hastened.
“Now you have cued the real evidence/' he replied
instantly. “Struthers is positive there was something
human in the voice^ yet it was not natural, that is, it was
different from any sound he had ever heard from a
human throat. When they shouted an answer the voice
was unable to frame an intelligible reply. It merely
babbled, ©r wailed, as I understand it. When they tried
to find where it came from they failed utterly. The last
they heard of the voice it seemed to come from a long
distance underground. You can imagine that under the
circumstances two amateur investigators couldn't have
felt exactly easy in mind. They decided between them
not to say anything to the others of what they had heard.
So far, they haven't told a soul besides myself, and they
don't want the story made public, for fear of being
ridiculed for a couple of superstitious hoodlums."
“It might have been one of their party playing a joke
on them/' I suggested.
“No ; the rest of them, the guide and two others, had
gone hunting, and both Struthers and Van Mar are posi-
tive that they did not come near the cave; in fact, the
guide refused to enter the cave out of superstitious fear,
and the other hunters were afraid of getting lost under-
ground. They tried to persuade Struthers and Van Mar
not to go in. As for any one else being up there near
the cave, you know what an out-of-the-way place it is.
Not even a hunter or trapper gets that far more than
once a year. Fm in favor of making another trip to the
cave and studying that footprint, also going deeper into
those passages which you thought of little importance
last year."
“Well, I could go, of course/' I hesitated ; “but you see
this work on my table. Here are about five hundred
specimens to classify from the new mounds we are open-
ing up at Elk Horn Creek.”
I could see a mischievous twinkle in his old-young
eyes. “By the way, Bob," he said softly. “Willa is wild
to go with me."
I laughed with some embarrassment. Since Roger was
Willa's father, it was well known to him, that I had long
been especially interested in her, and that I was not likely
to turn down an opportunity of accompanying her on an
adventure that would take us away from all rivals, of
which there were many, not only because of Willa An-
son's prospective inheritance, but because of her personal
charm. As a matter of fact, the promise of Willa's com-
pany would have drawn me into almost any wild goose
chase, and Roger knew it.
“I’ll think it over, Mr. An— Roger,” I hedged. In
spite of his protests I could never quite accustom myself
to calling him Roger. “But Fm afraid the curator will
want me to stay until this work is out of the way."
“Nonsense. I'll pay the field expenses; that always
gets him."
He was on his feet, preparing to leave, and he was in
his most expansive mood, barrel chest thrown out to the
peril of his vest buttons.
“Ill have the supplies shipped to Antlers," he said
conclusively. “’Box up your equipment, Robert, and
send it on.”
“Woii've made me entirely dissatisfied with my present
job," I said, going to the door with him. “l\nyway,
Willa will enjoy the trip whether I go or not. She likes
roughing it. If she were a man Fd say she was a chip'
off the old block."
Roger slapped mv back. “’Ever since her mother died
she's been getting to be more of a son than a daughter.
Fm sort of depending on you, Bob, to keep her from
reverting to the pre-Rib stage.”
“You make me feel as if you were the suitor and I the
father," I stammered, and then his hearty laughter was
coming back through the door, as he jollied the secretary
on his way out.
My day's work on the Elk Horn collection had been
completely ruined by Roger Anson's visit. The tale of
the footprint and the uncanny voices in Comanche Cave
was not so much the cause of my disrupted concentration
as Willa Anson. I had been a field investigator long
enough to disparage the reports of laymen. I had found
too many wild rumors explained by trivial causes to be-
lieve that Roger Anson's enthusiasm was based on any
very unusual phenomena. But Willa Anson's compan-
ionship on an extensive expedition into the wilds of the
Rockies was sufficient to make the project of overwhelm-
ing importance.
Still dreaming of Willa and wondering if I could ever
overcome my inferiority complex sufficiently to ask an
heiress to be the wife of a poor scientist, I went to my
files and got the maps of Comanche Cave, as well as a
tray of representative specimens which I had obtained a
year before, when Roger Anson had sponsored my first
exploration of the place.
The map did not show any passages leading out of
Hamlet Hall save Rainbow Avenue, which connected it
with the rest of the system of fissures. I recalled Hamlet
Hall as a colossal cavity, walled with black oxide of
manganese, whose gloomy majesty had suggested its
name to Roger Anson. None of the flints, spalls and
hammerheads which' I had picked up had come from
Hamlet Hall, which was several hundred feet under-
ground and more than two miles from the main entrance.
Nevertheless, I was inclined to think that the footprint
reported by the hunters had been made by an Indian of
modern species. It probably appeared somewhat dis-
torted, because of the slipping of the foot when the im-
pression had been made in the latterly solidified mud.
The telephone rang while I was absorbed in the Com-
anche Cave data, and I thrilled as the. voice of Willa
Anson responded to my lazy “hello."
“Dad telephones that we are going to Comanche Cave
next week/' she said with her customary and disarming
directness.
“Fm trying to see a way out of this work on the Elk
Horn project," I replied. “You know I want to go,
Willa, and, frankly, it isn't because of this fable of the
footprint and the spiritual voices."
She laughed deliciously. “You're so transparent, Bob.
W e'il have, the time of our lives up there. I know you
can convince old Talbot that this is important enough to
follow up right away. And, finally, Mr. Robert Y. Lang-
tree, you'd better make up your mind, because Fm think-
ing of having Dad invite Jim Sheldon if you can't get
away."
Sheldon, a young engineer with no more income than
I, had been trying to court Willa for some time, and the
mere mention of him was a livid danger signal to me.
My prompt and emphatic decision to go to Comanche
Cave with Roger Anson and his only daughter, even if
I had to quit my job to do it, incited a burst of musical
laughter at the other end of the line before the cormec-
tioii was broken.
Half an hour later I had called the 'curator on the
telephone, had exaggerated the importance of the pro-
1065
THE TOBIB' OF TIME
posed expedition to Comanclie Ca;\T, and had arranged
to have a field man called in to complete the work of
classifying the Elk Horn Creek specimens. It was a
lover and not a scientist who began feverishly packing
up his equipment for the trip into the mountains^ nor
had I the slightest premonition that I was preparing for
one of the wildest adventures ever allotted a man by the
gods of chance and the disentombed secrets of the earth,
CHAPTER II
B y the time we had packed and shipped our dunnage
to Antlers, the nearest railway station to Com-
anche Cave, I had called on both Struthers and
Van Mar to get the details of their experience first hand.
There was a vague notion in my mind that these sports-
men had been planning some kind of practical joke on
Roger, But their sincerity proved unquestionable. As
far as they were concerned the cave held a secret border-
ing on the supernatural. Their stories not only coincided
as to genera! construction, but they had that variation of
impression which always attends actual experience from
two viewpoints. Moreover, as additional testimony to
their veracity, both Struthers and Van Mar prevailed on
me to tel! no one exactly what had reawakened my in-
terest in Comanche Cave, and Roger and Willa already
had been sworn to secrecy.
We left Denver without interviewing any reporters,
being uncertain as to the reasonableness of our under-
taking, and having no desire publicly to admit failure
upon our return from a quest for the ''spirit voices'^ of
Cofrianche Cave and Its alleged satanic footprint.
Late in the afternoon we reached Antlers, where we
had little trouble in finding suitable horses for pack and
saddle and a recommended guide, or rather hostler, since
we had no real need of any one to show us the way to the
cave. Roger insisted on overseeing the outfitting with-
out our help, and before dark Willa and I wandered away
into the forests of lodgepole pine stirrrounding the town.
When we rejoined Roger at the big log hotel, where we
would pass our last night in civilization for some time,
he still was effervescing with enthusiasm.
'T believe weVe hired the same guide that took out
the Struthers- Van Mar party/* he informed us. ''When
I mentioned Comanche Cave he looked at me like an
owl, and said it rvas a 'tarnation good place to stay aw^ay
from, by jinks/ If you ask the natives hereabouts we
have the job of laying a ghost in Comanche Cave.”
Our cavalcade was ready when we finished breakfast
early next morning. Seven horses were waiting in the
yard in charge of the guide, whom Roger already was
calling "Pete/* with his customary hasty familiarity.
Pete*s yellow-toothed grin and WillaL slim grade in her
khaki riding habit combined to 'make our departure from
Antlers a most pleasant occasion, regardless of the noi-
some curiosity w’'e had aroused in the town owing to the
mysterious and probably dangerous looking instruments
that protruded from several of the packs. I had brought
along somm specially designed electric lanterns, or head-
lamps, for use in, the cave and a good-sized camera for
flash work. What with picks, spades, dynamite and a
nioiithL supply of provisions, there v/as all the three
pack horses could carry, besides what had in our
saddle bags.
As nearly as we could estimate from previous trips,
It was iiearlv
miles to Comanche Cave, and scarcely
steady progress the first day, and toward evening reached
a spur from which a grand view of Middle Park and the
Front Range was visible. When we descended to the
banks of a swdft mountain stream for night camp, we
were halfway to the cave, and had scarcely felt the
strain of the long jaunt, though two of the horses were
limping from stone bruises.
We made even better time next day in spite of perilous
climbing along narrow cliff trails. At noon we sighted
the tri-poiiited peak that marked the locality of Comanche
Cave. Great forests, marred by fire and axe, were now
dropping away, or sweeping up, on all sides, and the wild,
rugged landscape was constantly changing like a vast and
infinitely varied cinema.
Roger had begun to boast about our extraordinary
good fortune, vchen on the last steep ascent, one of the
pack horses stumbled and fell, rolling to the bottom of
the grade. The unfortunate animal was not hurt much,
but two hundred pounds of provisions were badly shaken
up. It was nearly dark before the pack was remade and
we started on again, following a winding ravine over the
last lap of the trail to the cabin where we were to leave
the horses and go on afoot.
We found the cabin in good condition. Some trapper
had wintered there, but he had left everything only a
trifle dirtier than before. South of the little clearing the
still waters of Bush Creek glinted through the scattered
growth of red fir. We still were nearly a mile from the
cave, which lay on the other side of a nearly perpendicu-
lar wall on the west.
After ten hours of sleep in the matchless atmosphere
of western Colorado we arose fit for almost any under-
taking. Willa insisted on doing her share of packing
over the bluff, and by ten oTlock we were crawling up
the precipice to Comanche Cave, laden with provisions.
We had left the horses picketed in the valley below,
having stored our goods in the cabin behind strong oak
bars, which would be sufficient to keep out the curious
bears and wolves that were the only marauders to be
feared.
Two hours later, somewhat exhausted by the long
climb, we started down the west side of the great ridge
to the limestone strata under which lay Comanche Cave.
It was Willa, who saw the first signs of the cave, prob-
ably because she had the lightest pack, and therefore
more energy to expend on observations.
"Bob, I can see the cave!” she sang out, bringing us
all back on our heels, for we had almost to lie down on
our backs to keep from falling forward.
'Tt*s a false entrance,” I said, following the direction
of her finger to a huge brush-screened sink in the escarp-
ment across the valley. The main entrance of the cave
was directly below us, where the talus slip, which we
were descending, joined a small plateau. We were now
in territory drained by the Grand River system. South
of us lay the Vasquez Mountains, and nearly due west
the famous Red Gorge.
A few minutes later we staggered out on a wide sand-
stone shelf near the entrance of the cave. The pole
shanty, which Roger and I had built the year before for
otir supplies, proved to be in even better condition than
the cabin on the other side of the bluff, for no trapper
had left his refuse there. Roger discovered a few empty
rifle shells and a flour bag which lie declared must have
been left by the Struthers- Van Mar hunting party. I
did not dispute the matter. It struck me at the time that
I was micomriionlv disinterested in the practical detail;
1066
AMAZING STORIES
of the expedition. With Willa near, I had the feeling of
a man who merely dreamed that he was alive.
After a rest in the shade of the dwarf pines that dotted
the little plateau, which was to be the headquarters for
our activities underground, I took Willa to the main en-
trance of Comanche Cave, The whole of the vicinity
at the level of the limestone outcroppings showed signs
of cavities, and I pointed out as best I could, the general
extent and location of the subterranean passages that
honeycombed the mountain on the north and east. The
main entrance of the cave was not very high ; one had to
stoop to enter it. But it was nearly fifty feet wide, and
a few yards into the mountain-side the floor dropped
down steeply while the roof remained fairly level. This
I explained to Willa, for we did not enter the cave at
the time.
Pete had officiated as a camp cook in our absence, and
when we returned a piping hot luncheon was ready. By
one o'clock we had begun the climb back to Bush Creek
for our second and last load that day. Pete was growing
more and more dubious concerning the cave and our
plans to enter it.
'T wouldn't go into that there* hole Pr a million dol-
lars/' he avowed, as he mopped his coffee-colored brow
with a bandana handkerchief during a breathing spell.
^^Well, Pm not going to give you two million, so stay
out,” said Roger, rather testily. He had developed a
painful wrinkle in the sole of his foot, and his progress
was more like the playful capers of one who dances on
or between upturned sword blades.
For the next three days w'e were kept busy packing
supplies and apparatus over the ridge. But ive left most
of the provisions at Bush Creek for Pete to carry over
later as we needed them. A bear must have frightened
the horses once during our absence, for three of them
broke loose from their tethers, but Pete saddled one of
the others and soon ran the strays back to the creek,
where we caught them with little trouble. Otherwise, we
had good fortune during the laborious preliminaries to
the actual work in Comanche Cave.
As my fascination for Willa Anson increased, my in-
terest in the underground adventure waned. It all seemed
to me a lot of overworked imagination, springing from
the frightened hearts of a couple of amateur explorers.
But Roger's reactions were diametrically contrary to
mine, and Willa became almost impatient to see the foot-
print in Hamlet Hall. I thought to myself that the
mangy savage, who had probably made the track several
centuries before, had never had such a pretty woman in-
terested in his legacies material or immaterial.
The day after the last of the apparatus had been
packed over the bluff, and Pete had been left alone with
the horses, Willa and I entered the cave for a short
sight-seeing tour, carrying a pick and an electric lantern
between us. Roger's foot was paining him so much at
the time that he decided to rest up in preparation for the
real work in Hamlet Hall.
As I had surmised, Willa proved somewhat disap-
pointed with her first venture . into the outer corridors
and chambers of Comanche Cave. She had been com-
paring it in her mind with the Wyandotte Cave of In-
diana, through which she had gone as a tourist, and
which was far more intricate and scenic than Comanche
Cave, or at least as much of it as any one had so far
seen.
“Wait till we get into the inner chambers,” I cheered
her, “You'll see some sights that are as exciting as
Wyandotte or the Mammoth, too. And if ' we hear
Struthers' mysterious voices we’ll have a thrill that ought
to stand us all on our toes. You know, just between
you and me, it wouldn't be so funny to hear something
like that half a mile underground with only a light bat-
tery and a few matches between one and the blackest
pit of Hades.”
She shivered as we headed for the entrance andThe
sunshine of the mountain side. “I don't mind the dark,”
said Willa, “but deliver me from those voices.”
I was of the opinion that if she would always walk so
close to me I would cheerfully have braved the ululations
of all the witches of Endor in the very heart of Lamia's
enchanted catacombs.
CHAPTER III
E had agreed that the cries heard by the hunters
might have come from some one lost in the cave ;
and though we could not expect to find any one
alive at such a late date, we felt obliged to search all the
passages before we concentrated our attention on Hamlet
Hall ' ■ ^ .
By Sunday Roger's inflamed foot was so much im-
proved that we decided to start early the next morning,
and we passed the entire Sabbath in getting our equip-
ment in order. The prospect, however remote, of find-
ing a corpse somewhere in the pitch-dark cavities under
the mountain was not a pleasant one ; but even Willa
vras not squeamish about it, and Roger, at least, was
quite positive that no ordinary human being was at the
source of the mystery.
Nevertheless, it was a pretty somber trio of adventur-
ers that hurried through breakfast in the cool dawn of
Monday morning. Roger's witticisms were few and far
between, and occasionally I thought I saw Villa shudder,
but to me it was all more or less in the day's work.
While we fastened on our various harnesses, I managed
to draw several wisecracks out of Roger, and by the
time we had ducked under the rock shelf at the main en-
trance of the cave,’ we were all in a cheerful and con-
fident frame of mind.
Roger and I carried the two big lanterns, the batteries
being fastened to our backs, the reflectors attached to
special head-gear. Besides these, we were equipped with
a pick and a spade, several sticks of dynamite with fuse
and caps, and a pedometer. Willa's pack consisted of the
canteen, provisions for two meals, a coil of light, but
strong, rope and a large flashlight. Save for the alpen-
stocks, our hands were free, and our boots had been pre- '
pared for dangerous footing by attaching sharp caulks
to soles and heels. Short cables could be snapped be-
tween us to rings at our belts during especially dangerous
climbing ; and for protection against any wandering wild
beast encountered in the passages, we were armed with
heavy pistols.
Comanche Cave lies in a territory predominated by the
Conianchean system of rocks from which it derives its
name. How^ever, by some geological irregularity, the,
caverns themselves are for the most part imbedded in
gray limestone, a remnant of the Subcarboniferous pe-
riod. Penetrating the A^ast maze of grottoes and tunnels
from the western entrance, one plunges into Stygian
darkness, down a steep slope, strewn with boulders and
overlaid by the age-gathered remains of wild animals.
Crystalline formations on the walls and roof flash and
scintillate in the light of the explorer's torch, while a
THE TOMB OF TIME
1067
seemingly bottomless abyss is always retreating ahead.
The desolation and profundity of that mighty causeway,
suddenly contrasted with the bright sunshine of the
mountainside, had suggested the name of Hell Gate to
me, and so I had indicated it on my map.
At the foot of Hell Gate is a level bed of nitreous soil,
covered with footprints old and new. The incautious
investigator, marvelling at the play of light on the dome
above, and deceived by the apparently unbroken stretch
of ground, might easily plunge to his death in a rectangu»
lar pit, or chasm, more than two hundred feet deep by
the plummet line. This pit appeared on the map as
Lucifer's Leap, and Roger and I did not pass it without
a firm hold on both of Willa's arms, lest she walk too
near and slip over the edge. Our wisdom in holding
Willa was evident in her remark a moment later.
'T could feel a most terrible fascination drawing me
into that hole."
'^Certainly," I replied, ruefully, ''and didn't Roger
and I feel the same way the first time we passed it.”
Several corridors branched out from the chamber en-
closing Lucifer's Leap, but after shouting into all of
them and receiving no answers but echoes, we continued
along the main passage, intending to visit Hamlet Hall
before we attempted the tedious task of searching the
by-ways. As luck would have it, we were not more than
two hundred yards from Lucifer's Leap when Roger's
lamp lighted up the eyes of some wild beast coming to-
ward us. Whether it was a bear, a wolf or a wild-cat we
never learned, for it turned and ran up a branch corridor
before we could get out our pistols. Passing the black
hole where it had disappeared, we could hear the rattling
of its feet in the distance, remarkably amplified by the
acoustical properties of the cave.
'Tf that poor varmint had been as scared as I was, it
wouldn't have been able to run,” confessed Roger, drolly,
as we hurried on toward the wall of darkness that stead-
ily advanced before the rays of our head-lamps.
After leading down gradually for several hundred
yards, the main passage suddenly drops steeply in a sharp
curve. At this point many lime- white stalactities and
stalagmites give the impression of huge jaw teeth in the
gaping mouth of a whale.
We snapped ourselves together with the cables before
starting down the treacherous grade, and before we had
reached the bottom we could hear the low rumble of
Roaring River. Completely surrounded by the ghostly
figures of the stalactites, our gigantic shadows dancing
grotesquely behind, we felt as if in another world, and
the sensation was augmented by the increasing roar of
the underground stream.
Rounding another sharp curve, and pushing through
a passage choked with massive white columns, we entered
Black Gorge, at the bottom of which flowed Roaring
River. The thunder of rushing water had grown so loud
by this time that we could not hear each other speak
without shouting, and our lamps had become dimmed,
and their rays diffused by films of mist on the lenses.
Keeping a safe distance from the spray, which continually
flew up out of the chasm, we followed the right bank of
the gorge to a natural arch of alabaster that spanned the
stream. The arch was round and slippery, and even with
the caulks on our boots and our hands clasped tightly,
we could not feel that our balance was any too secure.
The mere consciousness of the danger below us, in that
inky, froth-rimmed gorge, was sufficient to test the most
determined will.
I breathed a sigh of relief when we reached the great
shelf of limestone on the other side of the stream, while
Roger passed a hand over a brow that was beaded with
perspiration.
"That's the only hazard in the whole cave that still
leaves me cold,” he admitted.
"Where does it lead to ?” shivered Willa, looking hack
fearfully.
"No one knows,” I replied. "The water falls into a
pit a few hundred yards from the arch. It must empty
into one of the canyons of the Grand River tributaries,”
We did not regain perfect self-composure until the
rumble of Roaring River had receded to a faint murmur
behind us and the beauty of the colored rocks and "helec-
tites” in the Grand Circuit had begun to glow and shim-
mer before our swaying lamps. Again we passed numer-
ous pits and branches on both sides, overhead and under-
foot; and though I was convinced of the futility of it,
Roger insisted on shouting into every crevice. The odd
acoustical tricks, performed by the caverns with our
voices, were sometimes amusing and sometimes startling.
Once when Roger shouted loudly into a deep hole we
went on for some distance before his voice boomed sud-
denly out of the darkness behind in a hair-raising
who-o-oof!
From Cathedral Dome, the most central chamber of
the cave, we were required almost to double on our
tracks for a considerable distance in order to reach Rain-
bow Avenue, the only known inlet to Hamlet Hall. The
way was extremely difficult, leading through a series of
terraces, connected by narrow crevices. Cave-ins and
stalactites had partly blocked much of the way, and we
were frequently forced to jump several feet down an
embankment, or over deep fissures, sometimes lowering
ourselves with the cables where the drop was too far to
risk jumping. Gray, mouse-skinned bats frequently
brushed our faces in their uncannily sensitive flight, and
twice we passed through chambers that were literally
alive with a species of light brown cricket. Once Roger
fell and his lamp went out, my own being switched off
almost simultaneously by my effort to catch him. We
were plunged in almost tangible darkness for several
seconds— a sensation which cannot be appreciated until
one has experienced it half a mile underground in a pas-
sage so close and narrow as to give one the frantic feel-
ing of being buried alive.
Rainbow Avenue was reached at last when we were
nearly exhausted. For one who never before had seen it,
this beautiful passage was well worth the struggle
through the crevices. Great spars of gypsum and arches
of iridescent crystals filled the long, straight corridor,
which led gradually downward. For ages the natural
acids formed there had been carving extraordinary
figures in the calcereous sediments, and everywhere were
fairy arbors, rosettes, gargoyles and curious nooks of
alabaster.
Halfway to Hamlet Hall the passage widens into an
oval-shaped dome of smoky violet color. Wondrously
clear and motionless pools of water have accumulated in
the hollows from the seepage of deep springs, while,
scattered over the pools, like weird cameos in mirrors,
are oddly eroded islands of pink and chrome yellow, re-
minding one of the ocean deep.
We were somewhat wet before we got across En-
chanted Grotto, as Roger had named the place. Except
for Willa's startled cry upon bringing up a blind cray-
fish on the toe of her boot, we gained the last stretches
AMAZING STORIES
of Rainbow Avenue v/ithout mishap, and half an hour
later entered the dark network of corridors at the south-
ern end of Hamlet Hall Here there were no linestome
formations to relieve the depressing monotony of dark-
ness ; the glassy surfaces of volcanic rock reflected our
lamps from all sides and angles, and one was impelled to
flinch and dodge as if automobiles were bearing down
on him under a cloudy night sky.
Owing to the distorted light reflections and the nu-
merous passages, the entrance to Hamlet Hall was very
confusing, and until we passed through the branch corri-
dors we advanced very slowly and carefully lest we sud-
denly become turned around as to directions. A compass
would have been of little use in the cave, because of the
deflecting magnetisms of mineral deposits.
Not until we rvere well into the southern portion of
the long, gloomy vault was I aware that I was hungry.
When I looked at my watch I found that it was half past
twelve. We had been underground for nearly five hours,
our shouting into the branch passages having taken up
more time than I had thought, since ordinarily we could
have reached Hamlet Hall in two hours.
After more hallooing with no better results than to fill
the chamber with disagreeable noises, we ate a cold lunch,
washed down by water, and went on to the northern ex-
tremity of Hamlet Hall. This was the deepest part of
the cave known to Roger and me, being nearly two miles
from the entrance and more than six hundred feet below
the general contour of the surface. We were nearer the
sea level than was any accessible point in that part of the
Rocky Mountains. However, a circulation of air through
Rainbow Avenue kept the chamber comfortably cool, and
we were experiencing no distress, when we began search-
ing the floor for the footprint reported by the hunters.
''We may have to divide Hamlet Hall into sections
and search it inch by inch/^ I said after we had hunted
for some time without success. But the very next minute
Roger’s startled outcry called us to a spot near the west-
ern wall of the chamber. Under the combined beams of
our lamps we gazed in silent amazement upon a most re-
markable impression in the rock, undoubtedly the foot-
print which had so excited Strutliers and Van Mar.
In a layer of solidified silt, which must have been
brought in ages before by a flood that had later receded,
appeared an impression unusually perfect in detail. The
heel was undoubtedly humanlike, but the toes were
tapered like claws and united, as if by broad webs v/hose
outer edges were faintly visible upon close inspection. I
had never seen anything remotely resembling such a
footprint, and I could think of no animal, recent or pre-
historic, that could have made it.
''Now will you call Strutliers a superstitious Indian?’’
cried- Roger, exultingly.
“It’s far more than I expected,” I admitted.
“Looks to me like the track of a giant frog,” said
Willa, “and it must have walked right into a solid wall.”
I turned my lamp to the left and found, as Willa had
implied, that the wall of the chamber was less than a
yard from the footprint, the toes of which pointed that
way.
“W ell bring the camera to-morrow,” I said, none too
calmty. “Some casting plaster too ; this is worth making
a cast of all right. According to the shape of the heel
combined with the webbed claws it may represent the
liiimaii species in a reptilian stage of evolution.”
“An amphit, eh ?” chortled Roger, who could not sup-
press his glee at our find. “And now what made tlie
noises? If they were right about the footprint they
couldn’t have been so far off as to the voice.”
“I can assure you of one fact,” I replied on my pro-
fessional dignity. “The being that made this footprint
hasn’t uttered a sound for a million years. He’s been
dead since the Mesozoic epoch.”
“The Mesozoic!” exclaimed Willa. “Why, that was
an age of reptiles.”
“Right, and the greatest age of reptiles,” I affirmed.
“And of all its periods the Comanchean fossils show the
largest life-forms. We have indeed stumbled upon a
strange clue.”
Roger had arisen, his lamp turned on the wall of the
chamber.
“Bob, footprints don’t come by ones,” he announced.
“This thing stepped somewhere, and the next track must
be on the other side of this wall.”
He struck the glazed, streaked rock as he spoke, and
we were startled by the hollow reverberation that ensued.
“But that would mean nothing,” I hastened to say.
“All these chambers have been changed since the foot-
prints was made. There’s not a chance in a million that
we’ll ever find a mate to this footprint. It’s a miracle
that one has been preserved.”
The astounding evidence of the unclassifiable foot-
print had shaken me more than I cared to admit, I
scarcely dared to consider the magnitude of what such a
discovery might lead to in revising the theories of science.
And I had to reaffirm my own eyesight several times be-
fore I was willing to accept the amazing contrast between
the reptilian digits and the almost perfect anthropoid arch
and heel. Before I had finished measuring the track, to
find it a trifle longer than an ordinary foot, though far
wider at the toes, Roger and Willa were pounding the
walls of the chamber and listening to the dull reverbera-
tions.
“There’s something besides solid rock on the other
side of this wall,” called Roger, directly.
Before I answered I struck the floor with my alpen-
stock at a point where the overlay of hardened silts did
not cover the glazed rock. I was surprised to produce
the same hollow sound that was coming from certain
sections of the wall. Striking the floor at different
points, I found several spots which must have been ex-
ceedingly thin.
“You’re right,” I said. “This chamber, must be like
a cell in a honeycomb. But I think we’d better be more
careful how we hammer the walls. We might cause a
general cave-in.”
My warning impressed Roger and Willa, and there was
no more pounding on the rocks. They stood by in silence
while I took my pick and dug up a small heap of rock
chips to mark the spot where the footprint appeared.
A few minutes later we started back to Rainbow Ave-
nue for the return trip to the surface, resolved to come
back the following morning and record our discovery
with camera and plaster cast. The significance of the
footprint somewhat dampened our interest in the search
for the hypothetical lost one ; but, nevertheless, we went
through the motions of exploring as many subsidiar}^
passages as we coiikl, before our watches informed us
that night was drawing near.
The detour through the southeastern portion of the
cave was indeed fortunate for science, since we were
destined to make another valuable, if not miraculous dis-
covery. We were then about eighty rods (1320 feet),
by the pedometer, from the main corridor, in a broad,
THE TOMB OF TIME
1069
low diamber whose peculiar feriilike formations had
suggested the name of the Everglades, Willa had turned
With her flashlight into a small recess on the righh and
her exclamation of fright brought Roger and me
scrambling to her side,
''The body!^^ she managed to articulate as we focused
our lamps inside the hole,
A human skeleton lay face up on the floor, feet toward
us, gleaming whitely under the powerful light, and ap-
parently not a bone was missing. I stepped in and bent
down. The bones were half buried in limestone concre-
tions, and a glance at the skull revealed an aboriginal type
of cranium.
''This would have solved the mystery of the wailing-
voice five hundred years ago,'' I turned to Roger and
Willa, after estimating the depth of the concretion in
which the bones were imbedded.* ^'Tlie remains are
those of an Indian imdoubtedly. If we dug up the floor
in here we would as likely as not find some very good
Shoshone flints."
While Willa and Roger watched fascinatedly, I care-
fully picked out the skull and attached it to my belt with
a bit of cord, leaving another heap of rock chips outside
the recess to mark the place for a future visit with the
camera.
Just at sunset we clambered out of Hell Gate and
turned out our head-lamps. The setting sun’s rays were
very restful after the hours of eye-strain underground ;
but we did not realize how tired -we really were until we
came in sight of the camp and smelled hot coffee.
“Oh, Java, Java!" called Roger, ecstatically, as our
steps quickened.
The aroma of coffee was soon explained when Pete
came out of the cabin, apparently overjoyed to see us
alive. He had brought over a load of provisions, he ex-
plained, mainly a quarter of fresh bear meat. . While
Pete was declaiming his recent anxieties as to our safety,
I untied the skull at my belt and suddenly held it up to
his eyes.
“What do you think of that cadaver, Pete?" I asked.
He threw up his hands in horror.
“Gawd A'mighty, man, where did you git that 'car-
cass ?"
I pointed down dramatically. “Just about exactly un-
derneath where you are standing," I declared, mercilessly.
“This Indian has been a good one ever since Columbus
discovered America.”
My pleasantry had more serious consequences than I
had reckoned. Pete seemed much offended by my ideas
of what was funny. He refused to wait for supper,
starting back immediately for Bush Creek in spite of
my abject apologies for upsetting him. The last I heard
from him was a muttered comment something like :
“Them sci'ntists ain't got no soul."
And so we prepared and ate a hearty meal of bear
steak and pan bread without an audience to appreciate
our discussion of Comanche Cave and its miraculous dis-
closures. When we finally rolled into our blankets, I
think our thoughts were similarly concentrated, I know
that in my case even my love for Willa Anson, and the
exciting idea of sometime blurting it out to her, were
temporarily overshadowed by visions of where the
strange footprints led and what might be the explanation
of the mysterious voice in the nether world.
* It has been computed by scientists that certain cave formations grow
at the rate of .0254 cm. amiually, whereby the age of underground pre-
historic remains may sometimes be arrived at.
CHAPTER IV
T EXT morning we were all too eager to get back
at the problems of Comanche Cave to worry
^ ^ much about Pete's ultra-sensitive superstitions.
The sun had scarcely begun to absorb the dews of night
before we were clambering once more into the abyss of
Hell Gate, carrying the camera in addition to our other
equipment.
Heading for the Everglades to photograph the Indian
skeleton, we covered most of those passages which we
had lacked time to search the day before. However, we
no longer had the faintest expectation of finding the re-
mains of a lost human being. If there was an explan?-
tion of the voice heard by the hunters, we were satisfied
it would be found in Hamlet Hall?
Though Roger's foot had begun to trouble him again,
we made much better time than we had the day before.
By ten o'clock we had photographed the skeleton in the
Everglades and were deep into the fissures leading to
Rainbow Avenue. We rested and ate our lunch in En-
chanted Grotto, entering the outer corridors of Hamlet
Hall shortly after noontime.
“As soon as we get some good pictures of the foot-
print we'll cover the rest of the floor and see if we can't
find a mate to the first track," I planned aloud.
“Plague on the other track," said Roger, impatiently.
“What I want to see is the other side of that wall.
Seems to me that footprint will keep, having been there
a million years already."
“True enough," I admitted, “but when we start tamper-
ing with those walls we may cause a general cave-in and
bury the floor of the cave. We want a good record of
the footprint before we take a chance on destroying Ham-
let Hall, It's going to take dynamite to force a way
out of that chamber."
A little later we reached Hamlet Hall, awed to silence
by the strange secret it held. I had some trouble in ad-
justing the camera and flash-rack for a good focus on
tne footprint, being forced to do considerable excavating
around the spot in order to level up. By the time I had
the focus to suit me, the hall was ringing and echoing
w^eirdly from the blows of the pick. Then I changed the
position of the camera for a second exposure, requiring
more heavy picking in the rock. We shall always be posi-
tive that it was the noise of the pick that was the direct
cause of what ensued. I was slipping a fresh plate into
the camera, when a sound broke out which petrified all
three of us.
It .seemed to come from the left and slightly below,
from a cavity adjoining Hamlet Hall. At first a mere
babble, as of a child singing to itself, it rose quickly to a
howling like that of a coyote, dying way presently to
a peculiar smacking or slapping noise.
“Bob !" It was Willa's exclamation as she seized my
arm.
“Sh-h- !" I cautioned, hardly conscious of what I said.
The sound broke out again, a little nearer this time,
as if something were approaching the wall toward which
our eyes were staring. Again a shrill warbling, followed
by demoniacal laughter. The ululations increased to a
wild tremulo, sank suddenly to a deep, bass mutter, then
the smacking noise once more presaged deep silence.
“Wait!" I exhorted, finding voice as well as power to
move.
Stepping close to the wall, beyond which the thing
seemed to be imprisoned, I knocked with my fist upon
1070
AMAZING STORIES
what seemed a hollow spot back of the surface of the wall.
“Hello, hello !” I called. “Who are vou ?”
Though I was listening with bated breath and ear
pressed to the resonating rock formations, I could hear
no sound of movement beyond the wall. Yet when the
voice broke out again it was farther away and much
lower down. This time we heard only a howl of laugh-
ter, or a vocal paroxysm resembling laughter. While we
listened the sound died away beneath us.
Again I pounded on the wall, shouting ; but there were
no more responses.
When I turned to Roger and Willa I found them star-
ing in complete stupefaction at the black wall, head-lamps
focussed on the portion behind which the phenomenon
had been manifested.
^Tt must have been an acoustical freak,'' I stammered,
scarcely able to believe the testimony of my own senses.
^Treak, my grandfather's eye !" burst out Roger, com-
ing to life suddenly. '‘That's the thing that Struthers
heard. It's the thing that made this footprint. Let's
break through the wall."
I blocked his way as he started forward with the pick.
"Not yet," I cautioned, "We've got to figure this out.
We may be on the doorstep of something undreamable.
If we make a mistake by acting rashly we'll regret it all
our lives."
Willa had already gone to the wall and was examining
it minutely with her head-lamp, obviously looking for
signs of an opening. The camera and the footprint were
speedily forgotten as we followed Willa's example. But,
though the voice had been as clear as if it had come
through a crevice, we found not so much as a worm-hole
in that side of the chamber. Returning to the camera,
we held a solemn conference, none of us quite recovered
from the consternation into which the inexplicable noises
had plunged us.
"It couldn't have been caused by an acoustical freak,"
Willa protested, as one who believes something one would
rather not. "None of our voices could have been dis-
torted to resemble such a racket as that."
"I think you are right," I agreed, as unwilling to be-
lieve as she. "Whatever made those sounds was alive,
and very much alive apparently."
"/.F alive, you mean," asserted Roger. "Now don't say
in your most dignified, professional manner that it was
alive a million years ago."
"If it isn't dead it ought to be," I countered, desper-
ately. "I tell you I had rather not say what I think it
might be. The very sounds of the words in my mouth
would drive me insane. But whatever it is we've got to
remember that, if we release it, we may be in danger.
Furthermore, these apparently solid walls are undoubt-
edly a death-trap of the worst kind."
"Can't we dynamite them?" suggested Willa.
"I've been thinking of that," I said. "It would be the
best way if we could find some safe place to wait and
see what damage the explosion causes. But even though
Hamlet Hall isn’t entirely destroyed, we'll need to be
prepared for the escape of the being that made the noises.
By the sound of its voice it can't be altogether harmless."
"As a matter of fact, we haven't any proof that there's
only one of the vermin," put in Roger, who was begin-
ning to see the need for prudence. "The thing came up
out of the depths of these caves, and it went back into
the depths. It may not be the same one that Struthers
and Van Mar heard."
"And how do we know that only one was responsible
for the howling," cried Willa. "It sounded to me like a
houseful of lunatics all trying to outdo each other."
"Anything is possible," I gave in, completely at a loss
what to think, since the discovery defied the test-tubes
of science, by which I had measured almost everything
else. "Anyway, we'd best bring a couple of rifles with
us before we blast the wall, and we can make a kind of
bomb by fixing short fuses in a few sticks of dynamite.
I move we leave things as they are for the present. We'd
better talk this over in the light of day. Believe me, my
nerves are all standing on end."
"I feel the same way," Willa seconded. "This is noth-
ing to be decided on upon the spur of the moment."
Roger alone was in favor of forcing the wall and then
and there and using the pistols and dynamite against any
danger beyond. But Willa and I overruled him; and in
the end we stowed the camera and most of our equip-
ment in a marked corridor and made a hasty trip back to
Hell Gate and the blessed light of outer day. The many
unthinkable possibilities that came to mind as we recov-
ered our equanimity definitely decided us against any
drastic steps that day. We passed the afternoon and
evening in preparing for either a long exploring trip
underground, if we unearthed a deeper gallery of pas-
sages, and for a pitched battle, if we found that we had
broken into the haunt of a dangerous animal.
CHAPTER V
I DO not think any of us slept very well that night,
and long before dawn I was awakened by Willa's
movements as she packed sufficient provisions to last
us several days if necessary. After throwing a boot at
us for awakening him so early, Roger rolled out and
helped finish the outfitting.
With the rifles, the extra dynamite and all the cable
we had, our loads were appreciable in spite of the fact
that we had left most of our equipment in Hamlet Hall.
Having had but little real rest that night, we found the
climbing unusually fatiguing ; but our excitement kept us
stimulated to such an extent that we made the trip in
less than two hours, after some reckless jumping in the
crevices of Rainbow Avenue, which might easily have
sprained an ankle.
Upon reaching Hamlet Hall we left most of our gear
with the camera and tools and made another attempt to
awaken the voices behind the wall. But, though w’^e ham-
mered and shouted for half an hour, we heard nothingf
but the echoes of our own bedlam, and finally there was
nothing left to do but dynamite the wall.
I had brought a small drill with me, and after some
violent exertion, I penetrated the rock near the point
where we had heard the voice. To my surprise, though
I bored fully a foot deep, I did not break through; yet
the spqt where I drilled gave forth an unquestionably
hollow sound when struck. I decided that it was the
nature of the rock and the contours of the cavities that
caused the resonance rather than any inherent thinness
of the strata.
By the time I had tamped down the dynamite with a
three-minute fuse, Roger and Willa had returned with
the report that the walls all seemed solid near the spot
where we had left our dunnage, and after clearing the
vicinity of all apparatus, I lighted the fuse, and we all
ran back to the predesignated place of safety.
We had our ears well stopped when the explosion
came, but the amplification of the noise of concussion
THE TOMB OF TIME
1071
was so great that our heads rang deafeningly for minutes
afterward. Waiting tensely in expectation of a dreadful
avalanche of shattered walls, we were reassured by the
quick cessation of falling rubble. Only the echoes of the
explosion boomed dully in the distant corridors of the
cave, the atmosphere somewhat clouded by fine dust.
Willa and Roger carried the two rifles, when we stole
back down the corridor to the place where we had
blasted, while I held a dynamite bomb ready to ignite and
throw at whatever apparition might confront us from
the depths.
To our surprise, we found that the explosion had done
no extensive damage. Only a few cracks radiated from
the center of concussion, nor did we dream how perilously
near we had come to disaster. However, the charge had
blown a large hole in the wall, and a cautious inspection
of it revealed that another chamber had been tapped not
more than three feet from Hamlet HalL The substance
of the partition, under its igneous glaze, proved to be
porous and brittle, which probably accounted for its
reasonance.
Training our head-lamps on the hole, we drew off a
little way and waited in tense silence, bomb and rifles
ready. I tried to convince myself that no living creature
could possibly have been imprisoned behind the w^all, but
the evidence of the mysterious voice could not be laughed
away, and if our knocking and shouting had been suf-
ficient to attract whatever was hidden there, then the
explosion surely would have excited its attention.
We must have waited ten minutes or more for some-
thing to issue from the hole before a word was said.
''What on earth is that smell Willa suddenly ex-
claimed.
''Your nose is sharper than mine/^ said Roger. 'T
cank smell anything but dynamite and fuse powder/^
"No, it's a different odor— like something dead or fer-
menting,” Willa insisted.
"I can smell it now,” I broke in. "We must have
opened up a swamp or a sink-hole. But it isn't marsh
gas or carbon dioxide as I was afraid it might be.”
"Guess that dynamite was a bit too much for our
friend of the depths,” concluded Roger. "Let's go on
into the hole. It's probably nothing but a lost coyote or
a slimy lizard.”
It became evident that we were not likely to solve the
mystery by watching the hole. At our suggestion, Willa
went back for the rest of the outfit, while Roger and I
watched. That happy precaution of taking -along all our
equipment was the most favorable prognostic of that
fateful incident, which we were later to recall with heart-
felt thankfulness. A few minutes afterward I had poked
my head-lamp into the hole and was . reporting the way
clear as I crawled in.
The cavity into which I climbed from Hamlet Hall was
not very large and was considerably choked up with lime-
stone formations. Hamlet Hall appeared to be a voL
canicly sealed room in the very midst of a mass of car-
boniferous galleries. The floor was hard and showed no
footprints ; hovrever, my lamp gleamed on several moist
spots which seemed to have been left there recently by
some animal's feet.
All three of us soon were exploring the chamber, but
it was Roger, who was destined to discoVer the significant
clue.
"Here's where it came from,” he called to us.
He had found the opening of what appeared to be a
natural shaft of limestone, which seemed to lead down
to a deeper terrace of caverns. We were unable to see
the bottom of the hole with our lamps, but it was evident
that an extremely active creature with sharp claws could
have climbed up the shaft with little difficulty.
I got out my plummet line and dropped it in. Sixty
feet of line ran out before an obstruction was reached,
and by swinging the weight back and forth on the string,
I could tell that a large cavity was directly beneath us.
"You'll have to lower me on a rope,” I said. "I'll
keep my lamp focused below as I go down. If I'm
attacked haul back for all you're worth. It's too close in
there for a dynamite bomb ; Fd only blow myself up, but
I can use a rifle.”
We soon made a turn around a near-by staltgmite,
which would enable Roger and Willa to lower away
slowly. After tying the line to my belt cable, I started
down the shaft, the rifle pointed down with the rays of
my lamp. It was an unpleasant experience, that slow
descent into the depths of the. mountain where we had
reasonable prpof that a dangerous form of life abided;
but I reached the floor of a second cavern chamber with-
out mishap, regaining my feet in silence like that of the
grave. Overhead the rope stretched like a thread of
silver up into the shaft, from the top of which Roger’s
head-lamp glared down like some monstrous, angry eye.
"You can send Willa down,” I called up, after' a brief
observation. . "The coast looks clear so far.”
Willa came down the rope hand over hand, like a
sailor, and Roger followed immediately on one strand of
the doubled cable, which slipped around the stalagmite
above as we payed out the free end. When we were
all together again in the lower chamber, we cut the cable
and left the two ends dangling in the shaft, awaiting our
decision to return to Hamlet HalL
Roger and Willa waited for me to suggest our next
move, while they stared around at the ghostly shapes of
limestone that stretched away into the darkness on every
hand. Probably we were the first of humankind that
ever had set foot in the place, albeit, life had undoubtedly
been there before us.
"We have discovered an unmapped gallery of Com-
anche Cave, if nothing else,” I explained, as much to my-
self as to Roger Anson and his daughter, my voice
echoing about the walls like tinkling bells. "Unless we
are mighty careful we are going to get lost. We'll have
to snap ourselves together with the cables before we go
on, and w^e'd better not unsnap the lines without definite
prearrangement. We could lose one another and the
way back to the shaft in five minutes if this gallery is as
large as I think it is.”
"How are we going to mark the back-trail?” asked
Willa.
“I was coming to that,” I said. "There are several
ways of laying guide signs, but I think we'll have the
best luck with stone cairns. We'll build up a pile of
stones at every turn, each within easy view of another
with the light we have.”
"Do be careful,” adjured Willa, as we snapped the
cables into the rings at our belts; and I was sure that
there was something more than impersonal solicitude in
her shining eyes.
"Never worry,” I promised. "If we're lost it won't
be my fault.”
With rifles ready for quick shooting, we started out,
myself in the lead, Roger in the rear. The chamber
diminished gradually to a long, steep passage not far
from the shaft, and after building a trail guide at the
1072
AMAZING STORIES
top of tlie bank, we descended into a second gallery of
passages. The whole formation in that vicinity appeared
to be honeycombed with pits and fissures, and a blow of
my alpenstock on the wall precipitated a score of tiny
avalanches. Repeated pauses to listen revealed no sounds
that could not have been caused by our voices and move-
ments. Before we had gone very far we were inclined
to think that whatever creature had made the sounds
must dwell a considerable distance from Hamlet Hall,
unless it was hidden in one of the smaller branch pas-
sages we were continually passing with glances askance.
“Strange the thing doesnk show up/' muttered Roger,
when we stopped at a general branching of the corridors
to set up a marker. “Not even a peep out of it, and
surely it was attracted by all that noise we made/^
“The dynamite must have put a scare into it/' I replied,
as I piled up the marker.
At that moment, from the passage on the right, burst
the most awful scream that I had ever heard in my life.
My heart skipped a beat, and I know that Willa and
Roger turned as pale as death. Before we could move,
we heard a rattle of dislodged rubble off in the dark be-
yond the circle of our lamp-light, followed by sounds of
something retreating— sounds like the scuffle and thump
made By one walking in unfastened galoshes too large
for him.
“Ah/' I gulped, “I think our friend has made himself
known.”
Before I could interfere, Roger had flung up his rifle
and had fired into the passage. The roar of the explosion
m^as deafening, and again we heard the trickling of counN
less falling crystals.
“Something tells me I'm going to bag a dragon before
I get out of this hole,” mumbled Roger.
Though we listened several minutes after the shot we
heard no more outcries from the animal, and the foot-
steps long since had died away in the darkness.
In silence I finished the marker on which I had been
working, and we went on into the passage where the crea-
ture had retreated, advancing like hunters stalking a
covey of quail. I soon noticed that the footing was no
longer unyielding, and on looking down I was surprised
to see the gleam of moisture under the rays of the head-
lamp. We had struck a stratum of mud ; somewhere near
a water vein -was seaping out tinder the rocks.
I had n© sooner called the attention of Roger and Willa
to the change in the floor of the passage when something
in the mud brought me to my knees.
“The footprint!” was all I could say, as Roger and
Willa bent with me.
Nor was there only one track in the spongy soil ; ahead
of us we made out the weirdest trail that modern man
had ever laid eyes on. There before us, fresh in the bed
of a passage hundreds of feet beneath the surface, were
the impressions of the same foot that had left the evi-
dence in Hamlet Hall— the footprint of a being that
should have been dead for a million years.
“I can believe in dragons now,” said Willa, when I was
once more on my feet and gazing ahead into the black-
ness where the footprints led— blackness that we now
were satisfied harbored a horror more terrible .than the
fabled Medusa.
“Are you sure you want to go on?” I turned grimly
to Willa.
“Of course I do/' she replied, indignantly. “Don't
start any of your chivalry a.t this stage, Sir Bob. I'm
going to see that monster if I never sleep again.”
“Come on. Let's shoot us a dragon/* urged Roger.
“This wee bairn of mine has hunted Hons and boa con-
strictors ; I guess she can stand a bit of ancient history.”
“Very well,” I assented, drawing a deep breath, and
testing the blaze of the cigar lighter which I carried to
ignite the dynamite bombs.
We followed the footprints to a bend in the passage,
where they disappeared into another shaft, which led
down at a steep slant to the left. The pitch of the shaft
was not sufficiently steep for effective use of the plum-
met, and our lamps could not light the bottom owing to a
curve in the walls. A chip of stone tossed into the hole
apparently bounded down out of hearing, testifying to
considerable depth. Again I felt that it was my place
to go in first, but the hole was rather small, and I would
have great difficulty in protecting myself if I encountered
our quarry in the passage.
“You'd better throw a stick of dynamite into that hole
before you go in,” advised Willa. “In fact, you're not
going in until you do.”
“I'm afraid of an avalanche/' I objected. “These gal-
leries don't seem to be any too solid. Most of the walls
are just shells: If we should be cut off from Hamlet
Hall by a cave-in it would be just too bad.”
“How about a few rifle bullets ?” suggested Roger.
“Yes, and take a chance on wounding it/' I retorted.
“I'd rather not irritate the thing more than can be helped.
By the depth of its tracks it must be as large as a grizzly,
ril go in without any barrage, what do you say?”
“But there's no need of taking such a risk,” exclaimed
Willa, impatiently. “Surely a stick of dynamite isn't
going to do much damage in a place of this size. Throw
in a bomb. I’ll be responsible if anything happens to us.”
I laughed and turned to Roger. “'Go ahead,” he said.
“Let our blood be upon a woman's head/'
We walked back to a point nearly fifty yards from the
hole where the roof and walls seemed fairly firm. Here
I unsnapped my cable from Willa and advanced alone
to the shaft with the dynamite bomb. According to
previous tests, the short fuse would reach the cap in
about five seconds, and even if I missed the hole I would
be far enough away to escape the brunt of the explosion.
For all my nervousness I made a lucky toss, and the hiss-
ing projectile dived squarely into the mouth of the shaft
as I turned and ran toward Roger and Willa.
The concussion seemed to lift the very earth under my
feet, flinging rock fragments with such force that they
stung me through my heavy clothes. Particles of lime-
stone and stalagmites were falling all around by the time
I reached my companions.
“A good shot!” cried Roger, through the patter of
falling fragments.
I was about to reply, when far away and behind,
through the corridors of the terrace, sounded a thunder-
ous crash, follow- ed by a booming, blood-curdling roar/ A
heavy shock, as of an earthquake, then the roaring seemed
to double and treble, rising to terrific volume, tearing to-
ward us through the bowels of the earth. Knowing the
significance of that sound, my stomach turned sick and
my heart as cold as ice.
“Avalanche!” I screamed and leaped back the way we
had come, through a storm of dust, dragging Roger and
Willa with me as I resnapped my cable to them, scarcely
aware of the precaution.
We got as far as the place where we had climbed down
the steep bank to the second gallery below the shaft from
Hamlet HalL There we were brought up against a bar-
Ali I J
THE TOMB OF TIME
rier of mangled stalactites, completely jamming the pas-
sage.
\¥illa's sharp scream expressed the terror that even
the reckless Roger must have felt to the marrow of his
bones. Our nervously sweeping head-lamps disclosed no
sign of a passage through the ruin of tumbled walls, and,
far and near, as we stood petrified with dread, we could
hear the shock spreading as other galleries caved in with
dull, resounding thunder. I became conscious that my
knees were quivering as those of one who faces a firing
squad with back to the wall
^‘We're buried alive!'’ was the first intelligible sound
any of us made, and that came from Willa. ^'And it's
all my fault, I told you to do it.”
The fear and self-condemnation in her voice steadied
me wondrously. There could be worse deaths than being
buried alive with Willa Anson, I suddenly decided,
“Well, there's nothing to be gained by losing our
heads/' I found myself saying with a calmness that
amazed me, “There are other ways out of here besides
the one we took to get in. And if we can't find a natural
passage we have dynamite enough to blow up half the
mountain.”
“But it was Roger's cool humor in the face of danger
that was the real sedative,
“Really, my children,” he said, solemnly, “I feel that I
already have enough training to sleep peacefully in any
cemetery this side of the Styx.”
CHAPTER VI
“^T'^HERE must be another shaft leading out of this
I gallery,” Roger gave voice calmly to our mutual
A opinion after the landslides had settled and deep
silence had fallen throughout the ruined caverns. “I
think we ought to look for a natural passage before we
use any more of that confounded dynamite. We might
get ourselves into a pocket.”
At that moment nothing could have influenced me to
risk another explosion in such close and shaky quarters,
and Willa had not yet ceased condemning herself for
urging me to fire the bomb that had brought on the
calamity. Grimly quiet and determined, turned away
from the clogged outlet, which once led to Hamlet Hall,
and began a systematic survey of all the corridors. The
creature of the footprints had assumed temporary unim-
portance in our greater danger, and though we kept a
sharp watch for its possible return from the shaft, we
were not so cautious in our advance as ’we had been be-
fore the catastrophe.
By a series of stone cairns, 'which differentiated by
chalk marks beside them, w^e checked off the passages as
fast as we explored them. Time passed swiftly, and as
we were unable to find an outlet our nervous tension in-
creased. We located only one shaft that seemed to hold
promise, but after nearly an hour's work in reaching the
top of it, we found the way blocked by a dome of solid
limestone.
At six o'clock we were back at the, starting point of
our long search, forced to admit that we were locked in,
and that our only remaining means of reaching the up-
per galleries before night was by blasting, which in our
grave extremities no longer seemed so dangerous. The
explosion that had caused all our trouble seemed to have
had a permanently quieting afliect on the strange denizen
of the moutitaiii depths, for we had heard nothing more
, from it, nor seen anything but the dead-vvliite walls and
columns of what promised to be our mausoleum for
many hours to come.
Resolved upon desperate measures, we again con-
fronted the cave-in that blocked our retreat to Hamlet
Hall. A thorough examination of the barrier and the
stresses jamming it against the roof revealed little chance
of blasting a hole large enough, or deep enough to let us
through. However, in the hope that some miracle might
happen, I made a step-ladder of stalagmite fragments and
set to work energetically wdth the drill.
It was nearly eight o’clock before I finally fired the
fuse, and we ran back to a previously arranged place of
safety. The explosion did not cause any such catastrophe
as before, since the weaker walls had already been
leveled ; it merely broke down a large portion of the roof,
and after the dust had settled, we found that, instead of
making an opening, we had only increased the height of
the mass, which seemed slowly sliding toward us out of
the upper gallery.
“The whole terrace around Hamlet Hall must have
fallen in/' I said in despair as I played my head-lamp
over the glacial rampart of boulders. “Our blasting has
only moved the avalanche a little farther into the pas-
sage, It's worse than it was before.”
“Why can't we carry these boulders back into the
other passages?” suggested Willa, who was showing ad-
mirable fortitude, considering the horror of our predica-
ment.
“That might do as a last resort,” Roger spoke up,
mopping his brow as if striving to rid himself of some
unpleasant illusion. “But I think we'd better try a few
more shots in the highest chambers of this terrace. We
may be able to break through to an upper room. Mov-
ing this landslide is a job of days not hours.”
There seemed nothing better to do than to follow
Roger's suggestion, since our dynamiting was not likely
to get us into a worse position than it already had. At
three other points in the gallery we proceeded to drill and
blast, changing to the chambers above, we only precipi-
tated huge cave-ins that plugged the chambers where the
shots were made.-
Heart-sick and exhausted, fast succumbing to that
growing desperation which was overcoming us, so un-
fortunate as to be imprisoned underground, we returned
once more to the barrier that barred us from the original
passage to Hamlet Hall. We still had the recourse of
clearing the passage by hand, but in our weakened condi-
tion the moving of such a mass of debris seemed impos-
sible and attempts to do it appeared futile.
We sat down to rest in silence, unable to summon the
spirit for any comforting optimism. It was then long
past the time for our evening meal, but we had no
stomachs for food, and no one mentioned it, though we
drank sparingly from the canteen.
“There's no need of worrying yet,” Roger finally mus*-
tered the courage to speak. “We've just begun. The
air seems good in here, and we have plenty of provisions
and water. Let's find a good place to spend the night
and try to get some sleep. It will all look different in the
morning/'
I became av'are that Willa v/as not listening, that she
was staring off into the darkness to the right. My scalp
prickled with instinctive fear, as she uttered a sudden ex-
clamation and pointed into the dark. I could see nothing
definite at first, but presently I- distinguished a deeper
blot of darkness near the bulge of the wall at the j tinc-
ture of two corridors. Two globular eyes suddenly
1074
AMAZING STORIES
gleamed in the light of the head-lamps. Both Roger and
I drew our pistols, but the shadov/ was gone before we
could fire ; and again, out of the distant corridors, came
the odd flip-flop of strange feet, followed by a long,
mournful wail and a burst of laughter somewhat like the
cackle of a gigantic hen.
When we relaxed and bolstered our pistols, I think we
were all glad that the creature had again escaped, for in
our condition we wanted only to be left alone.
“We don't seem to be in need of company,” I ob-
served, glumly.
“No, and somehow I seem to be glad that something
is near us— now,” murmured Willa. “I guess misery
loves company.”
“And if we can do nothing better we can follow it
down the shaft,” I rejoined, cheerfully. “It might lead
us to a way out.”
A little later we moved up the corridor to a wide,
smooth ledge in the wall, where we would be well forti-
fied against any attack during the night. After setting
out a scanty lunch, which we ate with more appetite than
we had expected, we drew lots, at Willa's insistance, to
settle the order of the night watch. The first watch fell
to Roger, the second to Willa and the last to me. I con-
sidered myself unfortunate in having nothing to do until
late in the morning, for none of us expected to sleep
much.
Strangely, wx were not again visited by the phantom
of the footprints all through the dragging hours of that
unforgettable night. Unable to find an easy position on
our hard beds, we slept but fitfully. It seemed that I
had scarcely dozed off into troubled dreams, when Willa
called me ior the last watch, and I arose to take charge
of the head-lamp at the edge of the ledge, my burning
eyes' adjusting themselves -with difficulty to the dense
gloom.
Breakfast was a funereal formality. Our nerves were
raw-edged from the sleepless night and the comprehen-
sion that we might never reach the surface alive. We
could scarcely conceal our anxiety when we began work
on the barrier, dragging out the boulders and carrying
them back into the other passages.
For five hours we stuck grimly to it, almost filling the
passage with the rocks we carried back. Yet the barrier
slid down and covered every hole we made, and it soon
became obvious that we were only wasting energy.
A long rest and a sparing lunch at noon left us drag-
ged out and haggard. We had no heart to continue the
endless labor of the gallery in the hope that we had over-
looked a shaft or corridor that “would lead us to safety.
Roger's lamp was beginning to show a waning battery,
so we turned it out, proceeding mdth only my lamp. Dur-
ing that dreary afternoon we retraced every corridor .and
probed the most insignificant crevices, but no outlet did
we find.
Again our watches revealed that night had fallen in
the upper world, and too tired to talk rationally, ive
sought the security of the rock shelf where we had
passed the first night. To preclude the need of light
while we slept, we built a , thick barrier of boulders, en-
tirely enclosing the ledge, though a watch was main-
tained in the same order as before.
Nothing happened during the first two watches, but
I had scarcely taken my post in my turn, v/hen I heard
a shuffling in the corridor outside the barricade. Willa
had apparently fallen asleep immediately alongside
Roger, and I did not call either of them.
Waiting tensely in the impenetrable gloom, my hand
on the head-lamp switch, I heard the footsteps draw
nearer, noting that there seemed to be at least two of the
prowlers.
They came up cautiously to the barricade, while I
gripped my pistol tightly for a shot between the boulders.
Suddenly I pressed the switch of the head-lamp, flooding
the ledge with light, as I peered through the interstices of
the barrier. But I caught only a gleam of slimy skin
and glassy eyes before the creatures leaped away and
fled.
Relieved that a battle had been avoided, I turned out
the head-lamp wfithout disturbing Roger and Willa. From
then on my mind was made up as to what we would do
in the morning. We would follow the trail of the crea-
tures down the shaft into the deeper recesses of the cave.
Somehow, I felt that they would lead us to less for-
bidding regions, if not to a surface outlet.
When at breakfast I told Roger and Willa of my ex-
perience, and suggested that wx look for a way out in
the lower galleries instead of the upper, they assented
eagerly. Like me, they felt that anything was better than
wearing ourselves out in the unequal task of moving the
masses of rock that lay between us and the upper gal-
leries.
“It seems to be the last chance we have,” said Roger,
resignedly, as he carefully chewed the last morsel of his
ration of crackers and cold meat. “It will be weeks before
anyone attempts to rescue us from the outside. Pete will
not find out for several days that weTe lost, perhaps not
for weeks. We should have arranged some scheme that
would tell him something was wrong if we didn't show
up after a certain length of time.”
For the first time in forty-eight hours of underground
imprisonment we evinced a mutual eagerness as we
gathered up our equipment and started for the shaft
which seemed to be the retreat of the strange beings who
had played hide-and-seek with us for hours. I threw
another stick of dynamite into the hole before entering it,
risking its permanent closing ; but no serious damage was
done, and we were assured that no animal lurked in wait
for us.
Closely followed by Willa and Roger, I led the way in.
For several yards we were forced to slide feet first on
our sides so small was the hole ; but the walls rapidly
separated and at length we were able to walk erect. Sev-
eral times I thought I saw a grotesque figure running
ahead of us just beyond the rays of my lamp, and I
presently discovered that it was not all my imagination
when we came upon fresh tracks in the patches of ooze
that appeared here and there in the floor.
The unmistakeable scent of rotting vegetation was
growing steadily stronger, when we reached a long, level
stretch of bare granite. It was this smell which had
attracted Willa's comment in Hamlet Hall. The walls of
the passage, which had risen to a height of nearly a
hundred feet, were no longer of limestone. Veins of
chrysolite and feldspar gleamed in the light of my lamp,
and all calcareous formations had disappeared.
“Do you feel that it's getting warmer?” Willa asked,
siiddenlv.
‘T thought it might be the exertion,” I replied, glanc-
ing at her face.
I was surprised to see that she was beginning to pers-
pire copiously. In the rear,- Roger was mopping his
face with his handkerchief, and when I passed a hand
over my face it came away glistening with moisture.
THE TOMJJ OF TIME
1075
^Tf It wasn't for these walls Fd say we were in an
African jungle/' burst out Roger. ‘^The smell and the
heat remind me of the Congo River Basin."
''The depth could account for the heat/' I reasoned
aloud, as we advanced into the gloom of the rapidly en-
larging passage. "We must be several hundred feet
under the surface of the earth, and we're going deeper
with every step."
Our fatigue and anxiety prevented us from marvelling
a great deal at the wonders of the vast abyss into which
we were penetrating. Excepting the darkness, we had the
impression of traversing the bottom of a deep river can-
yon. Our slightest movement was loudly amplified as to
sound, and echoes persisted in resounding far ahead of
us. So intent were we upon the footing, which was
growing more and more slippery with slime and a kind
of fungus, that we were not aware just when the dark-
ness about us noticeably diminished.
"Surely we can't be approaching an outlet/' panted
Roger, who had rolled up his sleeves and unbuttoned his
shirt to relieve the stifling heat.
"There's light somewhere ahead," I called back, too
awed by the vastness of the black gorge to be overly
impressed by the phenomenon of light at such a depth.
For several minutes we scrambled on down the steep
way in silence, straining our eyes ahead into the steadily
decreasing gloom. Behind, huge and distorted on the
cavern wall, our shadows were growing less sharply out-
lined, while more and more clearly we could see the
towering precipices of damp granite on either side. Then
we sighted the first sign of a cause for the light. It
was a glowing spot, seemingly high up on a curving
wall ahead. The spot grew rapidly larger as we scramb-
led on, melting and shimmering within its boundaries
like a huge coal fire. Another spot appeared to the right
of the first, as we drew nearer, and then a long streak of
yellow fire came slowly into view around the bend. By
this time the great gorge of granite had become as light
as a moonlit night on the surface, and I was thinking
seriously of turning out the head-lamp to conserve the
battery.
"Brimstone!" ejaculated Willa, whose keen sense of
smell had detected an odor which had escaped Roger
and I."
"Phosphorescence," I amended, panting as much from
excitement as from the heat.
Directly under the source of the light we stopped,
gazing up the steep escarpment of granite, to which the
glowing patches clung far beyond our reach. Our sweat-
bathed faces gleamed in the flickering light, as if we had
been greased, our skin was a ghastly yellow color.
Amazed, incredulous, we hastened on around a long
curve in the underground canyon. A sharp bend to the
right and another steep descent glowed up in the ghastly
luminance of the phosphorescent deposits, which now
were visible everywhere far above us. With the foot of
the declivity in sight, we were brought to a sudden halt
by a damp, warm breeze, blawing steadily out of the
depths ahead, and bearing the pungent scents of an
equatorial jungle, mingled with the unquestionable salty
tang of the sea.
"God in heaven, what are we coming to !" cried Roger.
"Come," was all I could say, as I plunged on down
the glimmering slope, greedily breathing the strange, re-
freshing breeze, with its odors of an alien, undreamable
clime.
CHAPTER VII
W E must have been more than a thousand feet
under the surface of the earth when the inex-
plicable "sea breeze" sprang out of the abyss
before us. The granite walls of the subterranean can-
yon had reached inestimatable heights, and the radium-
like excretions on dome and escarpment, taking the
shapes of miniature suns and veins of livid fire, produced
a rapidly strengthening illumination, indescribably weird.
Overcome by wonder as to the source of the strangely
scented air currents, we completely forgot our fatigue
and the dangers that might threaten us in the haunts of
the creatures, whose trails we had followed all the way
from Hamlet Hall. Nor were we any longer perturbed
by the idea of being imprisoned, for the fresh breeze
on our faces and the spaciousness of the dimly lighted
passage gave us a reassuring sense of freedom.
Still in the lead, my alpenstock striking up odd, clatter-
ing echoes with every step, I suddenly caught sight of
something green and leafy that fairly took my breath
away.
"What in the name of—" I stammered, stopping
abruptly, then lunging forward, forgetting that Willa
and Roger were tied to me and nearly upsetting both of
them.
The object that had riveted my attention proved to be
a cluster of ferns, growing in a soft spot near the outlet
of a spring. It was an unusual variety, difficult to
classify, and I could not help but refer it to an exceed-
ingly ancient species. Astounded by the discovery of
an advanced order of vegetation at such a depth, we all
stared at the plant for some minutes, pressing the damp,
rank fronds to ascertain their reality. There seemed
something prenaturally alive about the plant, as if we
confronted a reincarnation of the dead.
"It beats me," declared Roger, resignedly. "I never
saw anything like this in the whole North Temperate
Zone outside of a hot-house.
"Can it be an extinct variety?" marveled Willa.
"I've almost ceased to have any opinions," I replied,
dumbfoundedly, as I examined the spongy carpet of
alg^ in which the fern was imbedded. "We can tell better
after we've seen more of these plants, if there are any
more."
Prepared for almost anything, we went on, picking
our way around wide morasses of ooze, where the alg^
grew several inches thick, undoubtedly hiding treacher-
ous deeps of quicksand. Scarcely a hundred steps from
the first plant we found several more in a slime-rimmed
basin. It was stupefying. The earth seemed to have
been turned partly inside out in some former epoch,
preserving its primitive life-forms in a natural hot-
house. Every leaf and stem of the strange growths
revealed the coarseness and monstrosity of plant life in
an age of steaming swamps and boiling mud, and all
had that sickly green hue which is characteristic of vege-
tation under subdued light rays.
Springs clear and cold became more numerous, the
morasses harder to cross or detour. Tiny streams ran
hither and thither over the serrated floor, some crystal
clear, others brownish red. At some points the water ran
in and out of curious pores like miniature fumaroles"^,
and dipping our fingers in several of the pools that had
accumulated in the deeper hollows, we found them tepid,
* An aperture in tlie earth in a volcanic region^ whence steam or fumes
Issue.
1076
AMAZING STORIES
seTeral being iinpleasantly heated^ which was especially
notable^ since near by were rivulets as cold as- ice. The
remarkable vegetation rapidly thickened as we toiled on,
while the breeze on our faces grew stronger and cooler.
We had scarcely ceased to marvel at the grotesque
plant life and the variable temperature of the springs
and pools, when we began to notice fleecy patches of
mist floating in the vault overhead. At first we thought
it might be smoke from distant lava, but we were speedily
set to rights when we felt the chill of fine rain on our
faces. The vapors above us were true clouds, all drifting
with the wind from the point of evaporation, being re-
converted into w^ater upon striking the colder altitudes
of the gorge.
The age of the plant life was unquestionably decided
w^hen in the middle of a shallow, luke-warm pool we
came upon genuine cycad palm"^ nearly twenty feet tall.
The rank, strong»smelling vegetation through which we
tore our way was almost as old as the earth itself. Some
freak of stratification had entombed a remnant of an
ancient world.
From the spot where we discovered the cycad the way
became exceedingly difficult, but though we were breath-
ing heavily from- over exertion and excitement, there was
no thought of rest or of turning back. Ahead was the
explanation of the mystery, or the deepest riddle of all-
something so strange and terrible in our forevisionings
that it drew us on with an irresistible fascination.
The vault of the gorge became a dome, hundreds of
feet high, a veritable sky in the depths of the earth, its
suns, moons and stars the mysterious incandescent masses
that glowed and shimmered ceaselessly through the thick-
ening canopies of mist. Behind us fell an intermittent
drizzle of rain, before us loomed the gently weaving
fronds of giant ferns and scythe-bladed palms, and al-
ways with increasing frequency we found the amphit-toed
footprints of the living ignis fatuus that had lured us
into the grandeur and horror of the nether world.
The end of the trail came suddenly when we panted
out of a matted brake of ferns to a wide shelf, or plateau,
of pitted granite. So vast was the gulf before us that
our eyes were temporarily dazzled to blindness. We stop-
ped as one, needing no signal for the concerted action,
and as our eyes became accustomed to the fantastical
mirages caused by the play of wavering light in the dis-
tance, we saw that we had reached the source of the
rain-clouds and the breeze. Before us lay an inland
sea whose extent we could not surmise— a sea for untold
centuries locked away from the turbulent elements of the
earth^s surface by billions of tons of granite,
“Bob!'' burst out Roger Anson, hoarsely. “Have I
gone crazy?''
His voice seemed far away and insignificant, I am
not sure what I mumbled in reply. I could not tear my
eyes away from the marvelous panorama of undulating
m^ater, of cloud masses drifting steadily toward us, of a
dome which was lost in distances too great for the human
eye to encompass.
Queer, truncated islands, crowned with luxurious vege-
tation, loomed up in the midst of the deep. From some-
where on the left came the low booming of breakers, and
I thought I distinguished a far-off sound like the trump-
eting of an elephant.
* A palm tree from several of whose kinds sago is prepared. A
starchy product used as a food.
\¥e had come out of the gorge at the tip of a tri-
angular bay, wailed on the right and left by a dense
jungle, which grew to the foot of the steep, rocky slope
of the bench on which we stood, all permeated by the
variable ramollescence of the luminous masses on the
cliffs and in the stupendous sky-dome above the clouds.
Here, I was certain, was the native fastness of those
creatures, whose existence we had so far proved only by
their footprints and weird cries.
“Look!" exclaimed Willa, suddenly. “In the middle
of the bay!"
Before she ceased speaking I noticed an agitation in
the water below us. Some ponderous body seemed to
be coming up out of the depths. The waves were quieted
over an area many yards in circumference, the water
swirling and swelling strangely. With disconcerting
abruptness a greenish brown mass, like a ridge of moss-
covered boulders, broke the surface. I had hardly marked
the uniformity of collosal spinal vertebra when a mas-
sive, snakish head, with great jaws and eyes, shot up in
a shower of spray on a neck like the body of a python.
The creature could not possibly have seen us, yet it looked
around with an apparently startled alertness, craning its
neck over the water like a giant goose. It was the visible
movement of a broad flipper alongside the base of the
neck that informed me what species of monster we be-
held. Before us, at a distance of only a few hundred
yards was a living descendant of the sauronodon, monster
denizen of the Mesozoic seas. We had indeed discovered
an unturned leaf in the evolution of the earth.
While we watched, the great beast, half turtle, half
fish, dipped its head and seized something in its jaws
that resembled an eel. This it devoured leisurely, main-
taining its position by the slow oscillation of its enormous
flippers. Again it surveyed the jungle- walled shore with
an odd intentness, before it slovdy sank from sight like a
submarine, leaving a welter of bubbles and foam in its
wake.
- I became aware that Willa's hand w^as clenched on my
arm with a tightness that was almost painful.
“Bob, oh, Bob !" she broke out in despair.
I patted her hand without a correspondingly sympa-
thetic feeling. I was too stunned to experience anything
but awe and instinctive dread.
“We can take care of ourselves," I found myself
saying with poorly simulated confidence, my voice choked
and strained. “There'se nothing to fear— yet."
“Fear ! I should say not," Roger burst out, vehem-
ently. “Why, we've made the greatest discovery in the
history of geology! \¥ell explore this lake, we’ll find a
WRY out, we'll open up the greatest wonderland of science
ever known to mankind 1 Speaking of epochs—"
Roger's outburst was suddenly interrupted by a sound
that broke' out from the jungle belo’w, a sound that sil-
enced us as if icy hands had been clapped over our
mouths. It was the voices of the nameless beings we
had trailed from Hamlet Hall, and in the fastness of
their homeland there seemed a menace in the cries that
we had not perceived before. Again, an infantile babble
grew louder and louder, to burst at length into peals of
wild, unbridled laughter. We could not doubt now that
more than one had sounded a challenge or a mockery.
There must have been a score of the creatures hidden
somewhere in the dense thickets at the foot of the slope.
When the bedlam had died away, seeming to scatter,
as if the band had broken up, I turned to Roger,
“That is a more sincere answer than I can give," I
THE TOMB OF TIME
1077
said. we can carry the evidence of this buried world
to the surface it will be as much of a miracle as the
world itself.”
Nor did Roger attempt to protest against my pessi-
mistic implications.
CHAPTER VIII
O UR reaction to the discovery of the underground
sea was an overpowering weariness and hunger.
The strain of suspense to which we had been
strung ever since the landslide under Hamlet Hall, seemed
suddenly to snap, leaving us so fagged out that we were
temporarily unable to appreciate the lost wonderland to
which the footprints had led. Dropping packs and alpen-
stocks, we sank down on the rocks, assured that we were
far safer on the plateau than we would have been any-
where in the sinister jungle that stretched below us to
the edge of the bay.
By the time we had recovered our breaths and had
laid out a ration of food, it was nearly two o’clock, and
Willa reminded us that we had been more than four
hours reaching the underground sea. We were at least
ten miles from any known outlet to Comanche Cave, and
we agreed that if our memories were not in error, we
had not seen the light of the sun for nearly three days.
To me it seemed years instead of days, for so exagger-
ated was the passing of time underground that the real
world had become misty and dreamlike.
Roger’s high spirits w^ere the first to respond to food
and rest. While Willa and I still lay stretched out on
the rocks in a semi-stupor, he began sweeping the sub-
terranean landscape with a pair of small field glasses
which he always carried in his jacket pocket.
^Uome on, children,” he urged, ^^don’t let father be the
life of the party. Here’s a bit of drama that would in-
terest old Homer himself.”
^‘Leave me alone,” groaned Willa. don’t care if you
find Circe out herding her swine. I’m tired.”
I agreed with her by saying nothing, but Roger per-
sisted in calling out his most important observations, and
it was he who presently discovered an unexpected men-
ace rapidly approaching from the dimly lighted firma-
ment of the buried world.
''Get up, quick !” he shouted, bringing Willa and me to
our feet in a tremor of dread.
''What is it !” I cried.
''Out there— this side of that cloud-bank— just over
that big island. You can’t miss it!” he directed, as lie
snatched up his rifle.
Willa had seized her rifle and I, a dynamite bomb be-
fore we finally discovered ivhat had aroused Roger. The
shadowy semblance of an enormous bird was flaping
ponderously toward us out of the moving mists that en-
shrouded the sub -world deep.
“To the corridor !” I shouted, as we retreated.
Before the monster had come within rifle range we
had gained the mouth of the passage by wdiich we had
reached the ledge, and with all of us hidden but our
heads, peered out across the plateau, prepared to give
battle if the monster attempted to enter our refuge.
The great bird-like creature must have spied us before
we found cover, for it flew straight across the bay to
the plateau, seeming to blot out the whole sky as it drew
near. The tremendous spread of its wings was amazing
and terrifying ; their motion caused sudden puffs of air to
fan our cheeks, while our nostrils were filled with a
nauseous odor similar to that extended by almost all
reptiles.
As the hideous bird or beast settled to the rock-shelf
it resembled somewhat a giant bat, though the neck was
long and the beak unquestionably bird-like. Obviously
it intended to investigate the dunnage we had left behind
in our haste.
“Don’t shoot unless the thing attempts to destroy the
packs,” I begged, as I drew my pistol, reserving the
dynamite bomb for an emergency.
“Get a bead on its breast,” Roger exhorted. “There
are no scales there. Fire when I give the word;”
W e took aim and waited.
With wings partly folded, like colossal umbrellas, the
monster waddled on its clawed feet toward our packs,
craning its long, scaly neck this way and that, as if
looking for us. Its head was that of a crocodile with
the exception of the bill, though the wings were skinny
and webbed like a bat’s. Part of the body was covered
with scales and part with oddly mottled, sharp-pointed
feathers.
The monster had opened its jaws over the camera,
angrily scratching rocks and flexing its wings, before
Roger gave the word and two rifles aiid a pistol crashed
deafeningly in the silence. We could not have missed a
vital organ at that distance, and the horrible croaking and
thunderous flapping, which followed, revealed that the
creature had been hard hit. The dust rolled up and
pebbles scattered to right and left as the monster at-
tempted to take flight, but in the end it fell back to the
rocks, subsiding heavily, jaws opening and closing spas-
modically.
After making certain that no others of its kind were
in the sky, we stole out of hiding and advanced upon our
kill, ready to fire again if it showed any signs of re-
awakening life. But the lizard-bird was as nearly stone
dead as any reptile could be in so short a time.
“Looks to me like a pterodactyl,” I announced as we
began examining the carcass, whose muscles still were
writhing and quivering under the scurfy skin.
“The thing is half lizard and half bird and all beast,”
said Roger, nervously. “Look at those claws. It could
have picked up the three of us and pitched us into the
sea.”
Willa had not yet recovered speech so frightened had
she been, and she made a show of holding me back as I
bent to touch the revolting body.
Measuring the wings with a plummet line, I found
them nearly thirty feet from tip to tip and more than
fifteen feet wide at the longest of the bones, over which
the webbed skin was stretched. On the fore edge of
either wing, at the joint equivalent to one’s elbow, was a
monstrous claw whose single stroke would have been
sufficient to have disemboweled a human being.
^''A horrible thing,” I faltered, passing a hand over
a perspiring brow, when I had finished the examination.
“It seems to be halfway between the European ptero-
dactyl and the American arch^opteryx. The teeth are
those of a flesh-eating animal. We wouldn’t have been a
full meal for it.”
“The stench is enough to kill,” choked Willa, who was
holding her nose.
Fearing that the carcass might attract the hostilities of
other similar air-dragons, we dragged it with great labor
into the mouth of the gorge, where it could not be seen
from the sky. Afterward, at Roger’s suggestion, I got
the camera ?ind took what I hoped was a fairly clear
1078
AMAZING STORIES
photograph of the creature, though I was uncertain just
how to adjust the shutters for the phenomenal light.
Back on the rock-shelf, thoroughly aroused to the
danger that threatened from sky, sea and land, we held
a brief conference, deciding to go on immediately and
attempt to encircle the underground sea. Forewarned of
the monsters we would doubtless encounter, and armed
so well, we felt that we could protect ourselves against
any of the clumsy denizens of the cave- world, and it
was evident that if we were to find an outlet leading to
the surface before our food supply was exhausted, we
must lose no time. Raw food was of course to be ob-
tained, yet we neither knew whether it was agreeable to
us, nor whether we could find an edible variety when we
needed it
Shouldering our packs once more, we climbed over the
edge of the rock-shelf and entered the strip of jungle
between us and the bay. No sooner had the giant ferns
closed behind us than the breeze was shut off completely,
and we found ourselves choking and gasping in a welter
of torrid heat, which was made even more insufferable
by the odors of rotting vegetation and carrion. Eyes half-
blinded by perspiration, unable to see a yard ahead be-
cause of the dense undergrowth, we would have been
seriously handicapped had we been attacked; but it was
only a short distance through the tangle and we made it
without mishap, greatly relieved when the sea breeze
once more cooled our dripping brows.
A narrow strip of salt-white beach bordered the
water's edge, over which small waves rippled in with a
low, rustling noise. The sound of distant surf was more
clearly audible from the beach, rising somewhere in the
north, or what we believed to be the north. The islands,
which we had seen during our first observations, seemed
much farther away from the water level, and we were
appalled to see that the bay was but an insignificant part
of a body of water several miles in extent. That the
water really was salt we soon proved by touching it to
our tongues. It was as bitter as the Dead Sea; only
the absence of sunlight could have kept it from becoming
deadly poison during the ages it had stood in this great
tomb.
“Here are our friends the footprints again," said
Roger, bending on one knee and examining some impres-
sions in the wet, white sand. “Looks as if they'd walked
right into the water this time, or jumped in."
“They must be made by the same ones that we heard
in the jungle when we came out of the canyon," said
Willa, as we joined Roger over liis find.
“They're fresh enough," I agreed. “And the webs in-
dicate that they spend a lot of time in the water, though
they seem to breathe air." I glanced back at the dark,
frowning front of the jungle. I was beginning to feel
the instinctive alertness of primitive man in his early
environment, and I could see that both Willa and Roger
v^ere inclined to look over their shoulders frequently.
Anticipating a good view of the creatures who had so
successfully eluded us thus far, we set out along the
beach to the left. Ahead, the jungle extended far out in-
to the water on what appeared to be a spit or cape, form-
ing a long curve on the beach. Around this we marched,
alert for danger from the jungle or the deep water, and
not forgetting the sky. Far to the east we saw three
shadows against the Hminous dome, which we thought
were pterodactyls, but they did not come near us. Once
a huge fish dived out of the water not far from shore,
falling back in a shower of spray and startling us.
The thunder of breakers grew suddenly louder, and
we were not surprised when upon rounding the point
of land, we raised a magnificent display of surf. Less
than a half mile ahead of us great waves were rolling
in over a rocky bed, bursting in green-tinged fountains
and geysers against a wall of weather-worn rock. Be-
tween us and the surf were several acres of level beach,
strewn with driftwood and large shells. But it was the
glaring ribs of a bleached skeleton as large as a ship
which most attracted us, and hastening on, we found the
bones to be those of a sea-monster which must have been
thrown up on the beach during a storm or upheaval at
sea.
We were about to begin digging the sand away from
the skull the better to classify it, when we sighted several
strange figures issuing from the jungle. While we
watched with rifles at our shoulders, they came down to
the beach between us and the breakers. Though there
were at least a dozen of them, they seemed much afraid
of us, for they stayed crowded together. Evidently,
only an overpow^ering curiosity, together with the surety
of a safe retreat, had impelled them to approach us in
the open. Something in the attitude of the animals gave
me the impression. of men; we were like aliens from two
worlds, meeting for the first time.
“If they aren't the varmints that have been playing
hide-and-seek with us, then Fm a red-headed China-
man," declared Roger in an undertone.
“There's something human about them," whispered
Willa. “Don't you see how knowing they are. Look, one
of them is even whispering to another."
The impression of their likeness to men was unavoid-
able, and was even more accentuated when the group
stopped in close formation, the ones on the outside try-
ing to wriggle to the center. Yet they were physically
similar to gigantic amphibs, standing on their hind legs.
Their arms were short and apparently of little use, but
their legs were long, bowed at the knees and very sinewy,
almost snakily so, obviously developed for rapid swim-
ming, since there was a finlike appendage outside the
calves, like a half fish tail. The abdomen was round
f
and protuberant and of a light gray color, while their
large, upturned mouths hid the bulbous eyes completely
except when they moved their heads from side to side
to see better.
“Hello!" I shouted, waving my arms, as an experi-
ment.
My voice and gestures had immediate results. The
creatures began to confer among themselves, or so it
seemed, making outlandish gestures with their pudgy,
arms, and chattering volubly. Since they had evinced
no hostile intent, and we had no doubt that we could
blow the whole band to pieces with rifles and dynamite,
we moved a little nearer, until we were able to hear the
noises they made above the rumble of the surf. It was
like a bevy of school girls tittering over some amusing
secret. Had the beasts not been so hideous I should
have laughed aloud.
“i\mphibs," whispered Willa, as we stopped again,
lest we frighten them into flight, for they had already
began to edge nearer the water.
We could now see that their backs were a brownish-
green, mottled with black spots, which together with the
light colored bellies, gave them an even more remarkable
resemblance to giant amphibs. Now and again, one of
them drew a deep breath and distended his throat like a
chameleon. The slapping noise which had so mystified
THE TOMB OF TIME
iis a few hours before was sounded several times^ ap-
parently made by air suction in their throats.
I waved my arms again, inciting another break of tit-
tering. Then one of the largest of the group, the small-
est of which seemed somewhat taller than the average
man, moved toward us a little way and began to shuffle
his feet in a peculiar kind of dance, while the others
watched intently, cocking their heads from side to side.
The fins on the dancer's feet caused an odd flopping
sound— the same which we had heard in the cave just
before the landslide.
'^The fiend must be trying to enchant us," whispered
Roger, as the strange foot movements continued. ^^Don't
that remind you of an African medicine man?"
*Tt's so human^ and yet not human,” gasped Willa.
^What can it mean ?"
“They have intelligence,” I rejoined. “Maybe more
than we can guess. Look at that fellow dance, will
you ?”
“It may be some form of greeting,” Willa suggested.
Then Roger spoiled the fun by firing his rifle into the
air. The dancer stopped as if the bullet had struck him,
and with a suddenness that took us completely by sur-
prise, the whole group leaped into the air, soaring in
graceful arcs far out over the water into which they
plunged mdth scarcely a splash.
“Now you've done it,” I said, disappointedly, as we
watched for them to come up.
“Oh, well see more of them,” he replied, confidently.
“I just wanted to let ’em know that it wouldn’t pay to
get too familiar.”
For several minutes we watched the waves before we
saw the dark heads pop up several hundred yards from
shore. They bobbed up and down for some time, riding
the waves easily and undoubtedly watching us. Then
Roger fired another shot over their heads and they all
disappeared.
A brief examination of their footprints revealed no
shadow of doubt that the creatures w^ere the same as we
had heard in the passages under Hamlet Hall. We de-
duced that some of the more adventurous of the beings
must have been in the habit of wandering up the gorge
and climbing through the shaft to the terrace of caves
under Hamlet Hall. There they had by chance over-
heard the voices of an exploring party, which had incited
them to return again and again in an effort to solve the
mystery, until at last they had lured three surface-people
to the sunken wonderland.
We had started on down the beach toward the line
of breakers when, with a suddenness that completely de-
moralized us, the whole jungle on the left seemed to fly
to pieces. A chorus of bloodcurdling shrieks and liowJs
broke out as if a horde of maddened savages was on the
war-path. Before we could say Jack Robinson the beach
was darkened by hundreds of amphibs, all leaping and
screaming as if they had gone crazy.
Roger's rifle cracked rapidly and my pistol began to
spit lead, I having fumbled and dropped the dynamite
bomb unlighted. Willa had gone into action with her
rifle before we became aware that the creatures were not
attacking us at all. They were running past us into the
sea. The first group must have been merely a scouting
party, and now the main body, terrorized by the report of
Roger’s rifle, were in full flight from the cover of the
jungle where they doubtless had considered themselves
in a tight place.
For seconds the beach was jammed with hurtling
bodies as the amphibs dived into the sea. But as sud-
denly as they appeared, the last of them vanished under
water, swimming off to join the others. While we looked
about us stupidly, scarcely comprehending that we had
come through the melee unscathed, and somewhat un-
certain as to exactly what had happened, we saw that one
of the frog men had failed to escape. He was lying
motionless in the sand, not far away. One of our wild
shots had reached a living mark.
CHAPTER IX
I 'T AD the amphibs showed their teeth instead of
‘ — i their heels we probably would have abandoned
A our investigation of^ the sunken wmrld then and
there. As it was, we felt sure that i,ve had given the
man-beasts a terrible fright, and that henceforth they
must either be inclined to respectful friendliness, or s^
shy that we w^ould see no more of them, at least in
dangerous proximity.
Scores of ■ queer, bullet-shaped heads were bobbing
about on the weaves north of the beach when we ap-
proached the slain- frog-man. How much the creatures
could see of us and our actions at that distance we could
not be certain, but we hoped they would not find out
what we had done, granting they could not have ob-
served the death of their fellow during their wild flight
into the sea.
“If anything could make them dangerous enemies this
will do it,” said Willa, anxiously, as we bent over the
body.
“We can bury it in the sand,” I replied. “If they
don't already know what happened they may never find
out.”
There was little to be seen on the body that we had
not already noted during our first close observation of
the creatures. The skin was of a viscous, rubbery-
nature common to life-forms which pass a great deal of
time in the water ; but on opening the jaws we were
vastly relieved to find the flat, dull teeth of the vege-
table eater. At least, we need have no great fear of their
hungering for our flesh; though as Roger said, many
vegetable eaters had an appetite for particularly tender
flesh. Under other circumstances I might have under-
taken a dissection of the ampliib, if only to determine
the size and intricacy of the brain; but knowing how
greatly outnumbered we were, nothing could have tempted
me to molest the body, and especially in sight of those
on watch from the sea.
Roger had unfastened the spade from his pack and
was starting to dig in the sand when I interfered.
“They are watching us,” I cautioned him. “Wait till
I see if I can't scare them away with another shot.”
*T thought of that,” he returned, “but Fve already
wasted too much ammunition.”
However, since we had so far used almost none of the
ammunition for the pistols, I raised mine and fired out
over the water in the direction of the heads. The bullet
skipped from wave to wave, while the echoes reverber-
ated, and nearly all of the heads ducked under. But
several bolder ones refused to submerge, even after a
second shot, which was all I felt we could spare for
such a purpose. Unable to frighten away the remainder,
we proceeded to dig the grave, half convinced that our
caution was needless anyway, that the amphibs would
never summon the courage to attack us no matter how
we provoked them.
108§
AMAZING STOME
the shallow trench which we had scooped out and co¥er
it with sand and gravel We m-ere careful to scatter
the top layer so that no moiind would be visible, and if
the atnphibs returned to see what we had been doing,
they would have some difficulty in discovering that one
of them had been buried there.
'‘This will be a good test of their intelligence,” said
Roger, as we finished camouflaging the grave, dropping
some shells here and there for good measure. “\¥eTl
come back later and see if they have found the body,”
‘‘Alii supposing they do find it?” pressed Willa,
“Would that mean anything?”
Roger laughed uncomfortably. “Maybe not; I hope
not.”
I shrugged as he looked at me strangely, and I think
we all became unpleasantly conscious that, for all the
spaciousness of the sub-mmrid, we still were prisoners—
prisoners in the very hunting grounds of half-ape, half-
reptile savages, whose real nature and potentialities were
as yet unknown to us,
A few^ amphibs still were visible on the long, smooth
waves south of the breakers, v/heii we left the grave.
But by the time we had reached the first of the huge
boulders above the line of surf, they had all disappeared.
Our last observation from a high ledge revealed no sign
of life within the perspective of the naked eye, save a
dark object on the horizon, which we thought was a saur-
onodon, up to breathe from its hunting in the deep, Roger
declared that with the aid of liis field glasses he had
seen several amphibs climb ashore on a heavily wooded
island about half a mile out to sea, but the movements
of the palm leaves brushing the water might have de-
ceived Mm in the dim light. Nevertheless, the idea that
the creatures might live on the islands was interesting,
and only after considerable discussion did ive decide to
leave the mysteries of the amphibs for some future time,
having already meddled with them more than we thought
had been prudent
The roar of the surf had grown so loud by this time
that we could not converse without shouting, iks we
clambered on over the slippery rocks through mists of
spray, w^e could see that the granite cliffs on the left
had receded so tar from the seashore that we could not
have seen the mouth of an outlet had there been one
in the neighborhood ; moreover, the palms and pinites of
the primeval jungle were so tall and rank that the base
of the walls was completely hidden. It w^as difficult to
believe that the cloud-blown skv was made of stone, that
the apparently illimitable stretches of the sea where
bounded by colossal towers of granite not many miles
apart. The air continued to be good, though the breeze
•had changed direction and was bearing the odorous
vapors of distant ooze-beds, instead of the freshening
spindrift from the deep water. We discerned no definite
fluctuation in the light shed by the glowing masses on
dome and walls, and we were certain that darkness never
came in this land of changeless age, a phenomenon for
which we were devoutly thankful.
Not far along the rocks overlooking the surf we stumb-
led into the rookery of countless, batlike creatures, which
flew up in swarms out of the numerous crevices about us.
We were almost literaHy snioihered for a momenr. h'fe
had to stop and beat them off before we could see our
way ahead. So curious and stupid v/ere they that they
alighted on our shoulders and heads like cow-birds on
the backs of cows. I caugii!: one wick iistle trouble.
finding the iitimistakeable traces of the reptile in toothed
beak and spiny tail, thus further substantiating our proof
that we had discovered a preserved remnant of a prim*
eva! period.
It required fully an hour of difficult climbing to reach
the end of the rocky strip of coastland. When the thunder
of the surf had become somewhat subdued behind us we
came to the continuation of the level beach and sat down
to rest on the edge of a high bank, overlooking the June*
ture of the jungle and the beach. On the left the great
forests of prehistoric vegetation covered a series of
natural terraces clear to the hazy cliffs of granite, and,
had it not been for the vastitude of water on our right,
-we would have believed ourselves marooned in the midst
of an ocean of tropical verdure.
We had been surveying the wild landscape for some
time before I discovered a movement which did not
seem to be due to the air currents. What appeared to
be the trunk of a malformed palm tree was weaving this
w^ay and that, independent of the general oscillation of
leaves and branches. Now and again it stopped dead-
still wffiile the boughs near by continued to sway and nod.
“Here’s something for your glasses,” I called to Roger,
“See that queer looking tree trunk near the foot of that
terrace— just this side of the big conifer with the naked
limb.
He followed my directions immediately, while I turned
my eyes away to rest them for another look,
“Mighty funny looking tree trunk,” reported Roger a
moment later. “If it's a tree the branches are hidden in
the foliage of a giant fern, which doesn’t seem according
to Hoyle. You take the glasses, Bob ; my eyes are begin-
ning to blur.”
Willa also had become interested in our find, and she
was watching it intently while I focussed the glasses, I
had not looked for a second before I knew positively that
the object was not a tree trunk. It began to bend near
the top with a snakish resilience, drawfing in upon itself
meanwhile like a huge serpent. Before I was quite pre-
pared for so sudden a disclosure, an enormous head ap-
peared on the upper end of the moving trunk— a head
that was looking straight at me over the intervening fern-
fronds, so close through the glasses that it seemed in
reach of me with its huge, V-shaped jaws from which
dangled masses of vegetation.
My exclamation as I snatched the glasses from my
eyes was not needed to apprise Willa and Roger that
we had discovered another fearsome denizen of the cave-
world. The moment the head was drawn back out of the
foliage, where the beast had been feeding, the neck no
longer was deceiving as to its genre of life.
“A dinosaur!” ejaculated Willa.
“Looks like a giant, hairless giraffe!” cried Roger,
“By heaven, I believe the beast has discovered us !”
My own comment was never spoken, for at that in-
stant, while our attention ivas centered on the distant
head and neck, a loud crashing broke out from the trees
below the bank, followed by the ripping and tearing of
vines and ferns by ponderous feet. As stared at the
suddenly agitated treetops, a huge, homy head rose out
.01 the thickets, so far from the groiind that it seemed sus-
pended on invisible wires. A prodigious neck follom^ed
the head into view, shooting up and down and around
as the monster examined the vicinity, A pair of short,
front legs with four digits, carried kangaroo fashion,
ecame vis
beast reached the shorter under-
long* ana m
assive was the body that
’itiE I'yivijj iiiviiL
J.VOJ.
seemed it would never be drawn into full view, and
only our high perch on the rocks, which placed us a
little above the reptile's eyes, gave us courage to stand
fast and satisfy our curiosity.
''Dynamite is the only weapon that will phase that
fellow,” Roger choked out.
Our rifles had indeed shrunk to the insignificance of
toy air-guns as I made ready to throw a bomb. This
time I was determined not to fumble as I had during
the encounter with the fleeing amphibs.
But there seemed no immediate need for selDdefense,
and I had no intention of opening hostilities with the
giant. Flexing its gigantic hind legs, it hopped sluggishly
out of the dense undergrowth into the slough of cat-
kins directly below us, dragging its tremendous, tapering
tail. There was no question now as to what we con-
fronted: this was a giant dinosaur, lord of the Mesozoic
ferns; yet we made no move to retreat, for its stupidity
and clumsiness were patent before we had watched it a
minute.
Though the monster seemed vaguely aware of alien
beings near at hand, probably by sense of smell, its
vision must have been so imperfect that it could not
distinguish us from the mossy boulders that composed
our background. It kept on shooting its head this way
and that on the long neck, occasionally dipping its nose
to the ground exploratively, a movement requiring con-
siderable time owing to the great height of the beast,
which must have been more than forty feet. Several
raucous gutturals were emitted, somewhat like the grunt-
ing of a pig many times amplified. Then it suddenly
reared on its powerful hind legs, using its tail as a brace,
and towering even above the rocks on which we stood.
“Wait,” I called to Willa as she drew back. “It
can't reach us here unless it starts to climb. Then Fll
throw a bomb.”
“Stay and get a good look at it,” seconded Roger, “It's
as stupid as a sheep. Anyway, Bob can blow its head
off with the dynamite if it starts trouble.”
Willa had scarcely calmed down and resumed her
position between us, when the dinosaur turned its head
in our direction and opened its jaws. It must have at
last located us, for it immediately faced back toward the
jungle, as if excited in its dull way. Drawing a deep
breath, that distended the scaly flanks, it sounded a pro-
longed, nasal roar, the identical sound I had heard in the
distance a few hours before, and which I had likened to
the trumpeting of an elephant.
We looked off in the direction in which we had sighted
the first dinosaur. It was in motion now, coming toward
us as if in answer to the cal! of its fellov/ or mate.
Presently, the farther one sounded an answering bellow,
the noise of its movements growing rapidly louder. Then
Roger's sharp outcry warned us that the bellowing of
the dinosaurs had awakened response in an unexpected
and more dangerous quarter. Momentarily paralyzed by
what we saw, as we followed Roger's wildly gesturing
arms, we drew back from the edge of the bank beyond
which the dinosaurs were coming together. Two ptero-
dactyls were flapping out of the clouds from the east,
having evidently sprung from a hidden roost on one of
the distant islands.
“Let's crawl into one of these crevices 1” cried Roger,
as we looked for a hiding place. “It's too late to run;
they might see us.”
Two huge boulders lay close together not far from
the bank, and between these we crowded, hurting our-
selves in our frantic haste. So narrow and deep was
the fissure that the pterodactyls would be unable to
reach us on account of their size, while at the same time
they would be at the mercy of our rifles and the dyna-
mite. Furthermore, we could see all that happened
without moving.
During our maneuver for safety the second dinosaur
had emerged from the trees and joined its fellow in the
catkin brake. Both of them must have discovered the
pterodactyls too late to avoid a clash with them, or else
they were eager to do battle. At any rate, to our great
relief, the pterodactyls discovered the dinosaurs and
headed for them as they glided down out of the sky,
like two fantastical monoplanes.
The sudden outbreak of screeching and roaring that
followed was almost as terrifying as if we had been
the prey. The thunderous beat of wings and the thump
and jar of ponderous feet merged with the outcries in
a fearful bedlam as the reptile “birds” dived to battle
with the dinosaurs. Great teeth gleamed and gnashed,
rending horny flesh, while ghastly talons raked and
clutched. The monsters must have been deadly race-
enemies, so furiously did they set upon one another.
For seconds we could see almost nothing because of
the enshrouding wings of the pterodactyls, but it soon
became evident that the dinosaurs were being worsted
in spite of their greater weight and firm footing.
A pterodactyl seized one of the dinosaurs on either
side of the spine with its great talons^ endeavoring to
keep it from escaping into the trees by threshing its
powerful wings. The other dinosaur succeeded in es-
caping to the cover of the tall trees, where its adversary
was handicapped owing to the interference of the
branches with its wing action. Then the two ptero-
dactyls concentrated on the dinosaur still in the open,
and it looked as if tragedy would end the terrible duel.
But the dinosaur, sorely beset and tearing up brush and
sod with its clawing feet, slowly succeeded in dragging
itself and its combatants into the trees.
Long after the last dinosaur had crawled into the
forest the pterodactyls kept at it, trying to lift the body
in their talons. But they were forced to withdraw when
one of them became dangerously entangled in the trees,
not escaping before the dinosaur had torn away a large
piece of one wing. When the pterodactyls at last
soared up over the jungle, screaming horribly, their
talons were dripping with gore and the stench of
enraged reptiles was nauseating.
“Speaking of battles,” said Roger, as we crawled
out of the crevice and surveyed the trampled, bloody
undergrowth. “Did you ever dream of anything like
it? They make mad lions look like playful kittens.”
“Listen!” cried Willa, suddenly.
As we -fell silent, watching the jungle where it
weaved and crackled about the body of the wounded
dinosaur, the sounds that had attracted Willa were
borne clearly to our ears, undoubted^ coming from the
vanquished reptile giant. The cries were strangely like
the moans of human wounded on a battlefield, and con-
sidering the size and ferocity of the reptile, its plaints
were unusually piteous and doleful.
“It's going back to its mate,” hazarded Willa, pres-
ently, and she was not the only one who sympathized
with the diiiosatirs, for we had come to detest and fear
the fiendish pterodactyls.
As soon as we were certain that the monsters were
all too far away to be recalled by our movements, we
1082
AMAZING STORIES
climbed down from the bank and skirted the curving
fringe of the jungle to the beach. But we did not go
far before weariness once more asserted itself, and we
made camp in -the middle of a particularly broad ex-
panse of level sand, where there was no cover to assist
an enemy in stalking us.
The great quantities of driftwood, most of which was
tinder-dry, enabled us to build a fire, the first we had
had in many hours, and though we had no need of
either light or warmth, the crackle of the blaze was the
most invigorating influence we had felt since the acci-
dent had imprisoned us« The fire was comforting re-
assurance that a civilized world still existed somewhere
above the dire atavisms of an inhuman age, and Willa
even spread her hands over the blaze and shivered,
though the temperature was well above eighty degrees.
Squatting Indian fashion around our campfire, we
talked ourselves out of the deep horror that had 'been
hanging over us ever since the battle of the giants.
It was our luck that before we had been in camp half
an hour we heard a noise at the edge of the jungle, and
on investigating cautiously, discovered several reptiles
no larger than deer, which w^e classified as a small
species of herbivorous dinosauria. The scent of smoke
from our fire seemed to have attracted them. We shot
one of the harmless reptiles, determined to test the ed-
ibility of the meat then and there and decide our chances
of surviving in the underground world after our pro-
visions ran out.
A few minutes later we were roasting disosaur steaks
over a bed of glowing coals, perspiring somewhat, but
enjoying the savory scent of the fresh meat and hoping
it would taste as good as it smelled.
The meat proved to be • palatable, and even appetizing
for one who liked sea foods especially well. To me it
tasted like sea-turtle, and Roger and Willa likened it
to iguana steak, which they had eaten on one of their
hunting trips in the tropics.
^^We needn't worry about meat if these dwarf dino-
saurs are plentiful/' was Roger's cheery prediction after
we had eaten our fills for the first time since the catas-
trophe that had entombed us. ''We could live here the
rest of our lives if necessary.”
Willa and I exchanged meaningful glances at what
her father had innocently suggested. I felt my heart
leap as I realized that Willa and I had been brought
much nearer by our misfortunes. Here beyond the
reaches of civilization and all it connotated, the Anson
riches seemed a misty, inconsequential barrier, and I
knew that, if I stayed much longer in the tomb of lost
ages, I would be unable to contain myself, no -matter
how I might contend that adversity was no fair ally of
a lover.
CHAPTER X
T he strangeness of our first night in the sunken
world was hardly appreciable by us collectively.
Overstrained nerves bad finally succumbed to the
need for sleep; and at nine o'clock of the cave-world's
endless twilight, Willa and I sought beds in the sand,
leaving Roger to pace the beach alone in the usual
order of the watch, which Willa insisted we maintain
without favoring her in the least.
Lest we attract more formidable wanderers than the
dwarf dinosaurs, we extinguished the fire, thankful
that there would be no darkness to complicate the
dangers of the situation. We still were unanimously
agreed that the beach w’as the safest place for us, inas-
much as it would permit the use of eyes, weapons and
legs to best advantage ; and as long as one of us was on
the alert, we would have ample notice of an attack from
the land, the sea or the sky.
Shortly after midnight, at the beginning of Willa's
watch, the report of her rifle brought me quivering out
of deep sleep, though Roger was not aroused from the
coma into which he had fallen after his tiring vigil.
Leaping to my feet and seizing a dynamite bomb, I saw
that a gigantic lizard had come out of the jungle west
of the camp and was investigating us with a slowly
wagging head. Facing it determinedly, like Ariel be-
fore Caliban, stood Willa with her rifle.
I did not stop to avraken Roger, but ran past Willa,
lighted a bomb and threw it at the monster's head. The
explosion enveloped the beast in a great cloud of sand,
but it did not seem to have a serious effect. I was
about to throw another bomb in desperation, when the
mountainous lump of flesh suddenly turned and lum-
bered away up the beach, having survived a shock that
would have felled an elephant. I judged the monster
must have been nearly a hundred feet long, including
the enormous tail, and_ the tracks it left in the sand
were as large and deep as rifle pits. I believed it to be a
brontosaurus, one of the largest species of dinosauria,
which used all four feet in locomotion, and had a broad,
round-nosed head like a newt, and legs similar to an
elephant's.
Willa and I were staring after the creature, unable
to credit our good fortune, when Roger came panting
up, the explosion having jarred him awake. He was
just in time to see the brontosaurus turn off into the
jungle in its cumbersome flight.
'T'd hate to meet that fellow when he -was hungry,”
I observed, my ears ringing from the concussion of the
dynamite.
Willa still was pale from the ordeal, and it was plain
that for all her uncommon courage, she was beginning
to weaken under the strain.
"You'd better let Bob finish your watch,” advised
Roger.
But Willa held obdurately to her resolution to play
the part of a man and a brave one.
"Go back to sleep, you flowers of knighthood,” she
bade usj imperiously. "I'm not a bit more frightened
than either of you would have been in my shoes. What
did I come on this wild goose chase for, if it wasn't to
be thrilled? I'm taking my medicine and liking it.”
Roger promptly left the field to me, and as I prompt-
ly surrendered, leaving Willa mistress of the situation.
Secretly I admired her spirit, but I knew better than
to flatter her. Making a shift at going back to sleep, I
lay awake in the sand, listening to Willa Anson's nerv-
ous steps as she paced her post, and wondering what
further hazards the future held in store for the one
who was dearer than life to me. It never entered my
mind that we might not survive our misfortunes and
return to the upper world. My love for Willa brooked
no bint of pessimism. I would sleep no more that
night, I resolved, while still Willa must think she was
standing her watch alone. I think I was debating
whether I should get up and talk to her, pleading in-
somnia, when I fell fast asleep, knowing no more until
I was awakened at three o'clock to go on watch.
"All's well,” reported Willa, triumphantly. "And
look who's responsible.”
THE TOMB OF TIME
wm
Gazing up at her in the foggy aftermath of sleep, it
was on the tip of my tongue to say that I warmly de-
sired to be responsible for her the rest of my life, but
instead I responded with an inane : hope I can do as
well/'
She yanked my cap, down over my eyes, murmur-
ing something like ''old sober sides'' and promptly fitted
herself into the hollow I had shaped in the sand, waving
good night with a slim, brown hand. Even so trifling
an expression of growing familiarity was too much for
one of my rarely ruffled sentiments, and, when I took
my post, .1 was stumbling about like one drunken. I
had a wild, inexplicable impulse to beat my breast and
challenge all the giants of the sub-world to mortal com-
bat; but fortunately my ecstasy quickly gave way to
cold ponderings of ways and means of escaping from
the poisonous wonderland where love promised to
bloom beyond the pale of clergymen and licenses,
I had been on watch nearly an hour when, facing the
jungle, I heard a light splash near the beach. On turn-
ing quickly, I was startled to see three amphibs float-
ing on the waves not a hundred yards from shore.
Standing very still, I observed that they were back-
stroking slowly to keep from drifting in. It seemed
impossible that they could have come here by coinci-
dence ; there was something undeniably sinister in their
coming. As an experiment, I raised the rifle, which
Willa had turned over to me, and aimed at them. To
my astonishment they ducked under immediately, com-
ing up farther out and a long distance apart. Again I
raised the rifle ; again they ducked instantly, with
alarmingly canny foresight. They had learned the
meaning of firearms without doubt. The idea that they
had been watching us for hours from farther out to
sea, or from one of the islands, was still more discon-
certing; but I managed to shake off my forebodings as
imaginary, and when the amphibs came up a third
time I did not attempt to scare them with the rifle.
As soon as Roger awakened, shortly after six o'clock,
he being a confirmed early riser, I pointed out the ani-
phib spies, whose round, protruding eyes still were fixed
intently on us as they drifted about with idly stroking
legs.
"Ah, the plot thickens!" exclaimed Roger, after I
had explained the amphibs' reaction to the threat of
the rifle. "The first move we make to-day is back to
that grave. If they've dug up the body we can bank
on having trouble with them. Their fear of the rifle
might not mean much; they may merely remember the
noise after that first scare we gave them, but if they
bury their own dead, watch out. The only mammal
that does that is man."
That the amphibs were a mongrel species of anthro-
poids, evolved during the million years the cave-world
had been sealed in the abyss, was a disquieting conclu-
sion to say the least, yet the evidence seemed to warrant
it. Nevertheless, we ignored the spies for the present,
thinking it best to show them that we had no fear.
We started another fire far enough from Willa so
that she would not be disturbed, and set about broiling
a large part of the disosaur meat to replenish our
portable larder. While we perspired over the blaze,
turning the skewers, Roger broached the subject of
further transportation, outlining a scheme that had been
hatching in his mind for some time. It was that we
build a raft out of the light, tough wood which had
accumulated along the seashore, using our jackets and
haversacks for^a sail, and homemade oars when the
wind failed.
"We can cover far more of the coast from the ses
than we can from land, and do it in half the time," ht
contended. "And if we're going to get out of here
any time soon we've got to do some tall hustling. Seemg
to me the chances are mighty slim of a rescuing part}
reaching us for months at least. When they find thal
cave-in in Hamlet Hall they'll give us up for dead most
likely. I'll bet, that right now Pete is still expecting
us to show up of our own accord. He'll make several
trips over the ridge, before he suspects that something
is wrong. We’li be here weeks before any effort is
made to dig us out, and maybe they'll never try."
"In short, it's just about up to us whether we evei
get out alive," I summarized, facing the facts squarely
"One thing is certain, it will be a tremendous engineer-
ing feat to open a shaft from Hamlet Hall to the route
we took to get here. For all we know Hamlet Hal!
may have collapsed its entire length, and they'll have tc
sink a score of shafts before they find the last guide
cairn, unless we are able to communicate with then:
through the walls."
"Well, we can count on Ed Struthers anyway," Rogei
cheered me. "He'll understand what happened as soor
as he hears we're missing. Van Mar will be right witt
him, too. Neither of them will stop until we're found
dead or alive. Ye gods, if they only knew what thal
confounded footprint led us into !"
And so we decided to build a ship and go down to the
sea.
Willa still was asleep when we removed boots and
socks, rolled up our trouser legs and went to work,
dragging the drift logs into the shallow water and lash-
ing them together on stout cross-pieces with the extra
cable we carried. Our chopping with the camp-axc
awakened Willa, who was highly enthusiastic when she
found out what we were doing.
With Willa lending a clever hand, we soon finished
the coftibined deck and keel of our clusmy craft. I had
served an apprenticeship in the navy years before and
was not wholly ignorant of sailing vessels, while Rogei
had been a coastwise yachtsman; nevertheless, we were
temporarily stumped when it came to stepping a mast
with the tools we had. It was Willa who achieved the
happy suggestion that we lash a timber under the raft
as a rest for the mast butt when it was seated in the
hole we had cut through the deck. Thus we set up the
pole, roughly tapered and braced with short timbers^
secured by wooden pegs set in holes bored with the dy-
namite drill.
When we had guyed the mast to all four corners of
the raft, using the last of our cable, it withstood all the
strain we could bring to bear on it, and we were satisfied
that nothing short of a hurricane could swamp our ship.
The three amphibians were still watching us when we
ate a late lunch. They had scarcely changed their posi-
tion all morning. But the success of our sea-going ven-
ture had begun to bulk larger in our horizon than did
the strange beings of the sub-world, and as soon as we
rested we went to work on the sail.
A boom was provided by a long, tough, barked sapling.
Between this and the mast we stretched our patchwork
canvas. When the sail was furled, we had a craft re-
sembling a poverty-stricken fisherman's smack, whose
seaworthiness was as yet a dubious probability. Then
the offshore wind filled the sail as the boom was pushed
1084
AMAZli^y- Sl’yJililib
around, and we raised a cheer, as our handiwork started
out to sea, not stopping until we had come head to wind
and tied up to a stake. The lightness of the logs, which
resembled cork and rode ¥ery high in the water, ex-
plained the bouyancy of the raft, and eager to try it
out in actual sailing, we hastily piled our dunnage aboard
and poled out to sea through the shallow water, where
Willa dashed a sea-shell of water over the prow, chris-
tening our boat the Rambler, with our hasty sanction.
‘"Sail ho!” sang out Roger, when the wind filled our
makeshift canvas and our ponderous craft began to
move without the help of oars.
^^And no Davy Jones^ docker if it doesn^t sail,” I heard
Willa mutter while I adjusted the boom for the full
benefit of the breeze.
Using an oar for a rudder, Roger in charge of the
helm and Willa acting as lookout, we sailed out to sea
in fairly good form, though the raft frequently sloughed
away from the wind for lack of a proper keel, proving
the aptness of its name, the Rambler > I doubt if the
amphibs had ever laid eyes on such a monstrosity of an
aquatic as was our raft, and when we wallowed past them
they all submerged, swimming off a great distance be-
fore -they came up again.
Half a mile off shore, thrilled by the unexpected
maneuverability and stability of ^ the raft, we squared
away for the point of land where we had buried the
amphib the day before, a fair wind astern and high hopes
in our breasts.
CHAPTER XI
^^rr^HREE knots an hour!” Roger cried out, jubil-
I antly, as we wallowed past a group of small
A islands.
He did not explain how he had arrived at his ex-
aggerated estimate of our sailing speed, but I deemed it
a shrewd guess. A strong northerly current had picked
us up near the islands, sweeping the raft along at an
increasing rate, with the help of the sail, and we could
not have wished for a more favorable setting forth on
our strange cruise of the inland deep.
Shortly after leaving the islands astern a wave broke
over us, but its temperature was so warm we were,not
much discomfited, and the equipment had been securely
wrapped for just such an occurrence. It was while we
were adjusting the helm and sail, to avoid further in-
nundation, that Willa reported a sea-monster swimming
toward us from the west, supposedly a saurianodon.
Willa was using the field glasses, and what she had seen
was invisible to Roger and me nevertheless, we made
ready for trouble, she seeing the rapidity with which
the beast was traveling. However, I had no sooner cut
dry fuses for several sticks of dynamite than Willa re-
lieved the tension, with the news that the monster had
turned off south and was foaming across the waves at a
^reat rate, having apparently not discovered us, or else
bad sighted more attractive prey.
In less than half an hour we raised the line of surf
[hat we had passed on foot the day before. Standing
^ell out to sea, in order to avoid a possible wreck on
:he rocks being caught in the breakers, we bore down on
die point of land where we had buried the amphib.
rhe peril of the surf was scarcely passed before Willa
sang out that she had sighted the skeleton of the sea mon-
ster near which we had buried the body,
*T can see something moving near the grave,” she said,
tensely. ^^Looks like several of those little dinosaurs.”
^'Any amphibs in sight?” asked Roger.
^^Not near the grave,” she replied, after a moment,
“but there are some dark objects on the water just this
side of the beach. They may be heads. Yes, they are
heads! Amphibs, too. One just showed up out of
the water like a tortoise. Now they've all ducked under.”
I lost interest temporarily in Wiliams observations
upon discovering that the current, which had been aid-
ing us thus far, now threatened to carry the raft dear
around the point where we intended to land. Luffing as
sharply as possible without drifting awash, I took in sail
and lashed the boom and set to work with an oar« With
Roger lending a hand, we worked like Trojans for sev-
eral minutes of suspense before we finally pulled out
of the strongest grip of the current, and once more
felt the raft respond to the trimming of the sail, now
spread again, as we stood in for the beach.
“The grave has been tampered with sure enough,”
Willa's outcry startled us as we rocked and floundered
on the rough water near shore. “I can see heaps of
sand on the very spot where we buried the body,”
The animals seen from a distance proved to be dwarf
dinosaurs, as Willa had surmised, but they had all dis-
appeared into the jungle by the time we ran the raft
aground in the shallow water a hundred yards or so
from the grave. We no longer required glasses to see
that something had been digging in the beach, and after
ascertaining that no enemy lurked in the vicinity, I
took oif my boots and waded ashore. The condition
of the grave had suddenly assumed a significance out
of all proportion to the facts, because it had been so
long weighing on our minds.
Hoping that nothing more intelligent than a carni-
vorous reptile had pillaged the grave, I hastened down
the beach toward the heaps of sand, watching the
jungle, while Roger and Willa covered my advance
with the rifles. A gaping, empty pit greeted my
searcliing eyes, when I came upon the scene of the dig-
ging; nor was there so much as a knob of bone or a
bit of skin to testify to a flesh-eating grave-robber.
Clearly defined in the sand around the excavation were
the tracks of numerous amphibs; even to their pudgy
hand-prints on the walls of the pit and in the heaps of
sand.
My solemn mien as I walked back toward the raft,
dismayed by the evidence of the intelligences we had
to contend with, must have conveyed the worst to
Roger and Willa, for when I waded out and climbed
aboard they did not ask any pertinent questions.
“So it's war amphibs from now on,” Roger spoke,
conclusively. “But we're luck}^ to find out what to
expect from the vermin. Now we can at least handle
them as we would human savages, which means with
gloves. Heigh-ho, what's this!”
Willa had drawn back with a gasp, staring at the
water in a direction to which our backs were turned.
“Amphibs !” she cried, as we whirled about.
“\¥here?” I cried, unable at first to see anything but
waves.
“Under water !” she cried back “Hundreds of
them— like shadows. There, one of them just darted
av/ay to the left.”
Then I did see, and Roger also— a terrifying sight.
Scores of amphibs, dimly visible in the translucent
water, like a school of giant fishes, were idling in the
shallows. They hovered there like a sivarm of avenging
THE TOMB OF TIME
1085
water spirits, and I scarcely knew wdiat I w-as doing,
when I lighted a dynamite bomb and threw it wildly
into the w-ater.
The explosion drenched ns with a tremendous foun-
tain of brine and sea-bottom, and when the last shower
had settled I counted eight amphibs lying belly up and
drifting in with the ground swells. The rest had dived
off into deeper waters, or were recovering their senses
in odd contortions of their hideous bodies.
‘‘What did you do that for?'^ Roger exclaimed, ac-
cusingly, when we had recovered from the slightly stun-
ning effects of the explosion.
'T don't know/' I replied, uncertainly. 'Tt vras a
sort of panic on my part. Anyway, we gave them a
lesson they won't soon forget."
*T'm glad you did it," Willa defended my impulsive
act. don't know what those unearthly creatures
were planning. They might have dragged us off the
raft and—" her voice trailed off in a murmur of hor-
ror at the vision she had conjured of what the frog-
men might have done with us.
Willa's terror was enough to arouse me to the grave
chances we were taking.
‘I'm in favor of leaving the raft here and now while
we are able to leave it/' I announced. '‘'¥/hat's more,
I think we had better return to the galleries under
Hamlet Hall. We can wait there for help from the
outside a lot easier than we can cope with these half
reptile savages. This is no place for a — I was about
to say woman/ but changed it to ^human being/ "
But Willa promptly took Roger's objections out of
his mouth.
‘Wou're afraid because of me, Bob!" she accused
me, disgustedly. won't stand for it. We're going to
explore this cavity. I'll not go a step back to Hamlet
Hall until we know there isn’t a way out here."
Cheerfully resigned for better or worse, I gave over
to the Ansons and helped pole out to sea. At least
I had one favorable prognostic to tie my faith to : my
dynamite bomb had taught the creatures that our weap-
ons were as effective under water as above; henceforth,
they would be more careful how they approached the
raft.
. Getting the full benefit of the deep water current, we
made still better time around the point of land, and
were scudding quite merrily across the neck of the bay
from the head of which we had discovered the under-
ground sea, when with a suddenness that drove us into
a brief panic, three pterodactyls flapped up from the
plateau at the mouth of the passage where we had entered
the sunken world. The monsters must have been in-
vestigating the body of the one we had dragged out of
sight; though not out of smell.
'Het the raft drift," shouted Roger, seizing his rifle.
‘'^Here's where we give these scavengers a warm re-
ception. Take one at a time, and if they swoop all to-
gether, go over the side. We can swim ashore if we
have to.'
We gathered in the center of the raft, legs braced to
the pitching of the waves, as we awaited the attack of
the lizard birds. They had spied us without a doubt,
and were cirdiiig higher over the bay, preparing to
swoop down on the raft. As long as they were in the
air, my dynamite bombs would be almost useless, and
so I drew my pistol to help out the rifles.
Uttering a grating screech, the foremost pterodactyl
began to circle down, jaws open, showing its jagged
teeth. At Roger's cool command, with the bird not two
hundred yards away, we fired in unison at the gigantic
breast. The monster screamed horribly, swerved in a
steep dive and pitched head foremost into the sea, its
great wings beating the waves to foam and awakening
a thunder-like cannonade.
The crash of our guns and the falling of the first
pterodactyl caused the others to hesitate. Our second
volley, fired at a greater distance, was not so effec-
tive as the first ; yet we had again centered our shots on
the nearest bird, wounding it seriously. Wheeling low
over the water, the laboring monster flew dangerously
close to the raft, and we gave it another volley as it
veered away. The third and last, seeing the one float-
ing helplessly on the sea and the other flapping weakly
away, circled higher, and at length flew off into the
■northeast, leaving victory to us.
^Hhat ought to hold them for a while," exulted
Roger. Speaking of big game, what a tale this will
be!"
'If we live to tell it," corrected Willa- — or dare to
tell it."
Once more at our posts as helmsman, deck-watch and
lookout, we sailed away from the bay, but not before
we had been horrified to see the dead pterodactyl
dragged down into the deeps by some monster lurking
there. The idea of the raft being similarly pulled down
occurred to us, but we could depend on the logs deceiv-
ing the creatures into believing the RamtUer was drift-
wood.
We sailed for nearly two hours in a southeasterly di-
rection, hugging the seashore so that we could swim to
land if capsized. The walls of the vast dome revealed
no passages important enough to demand investigation
by land, until at four o'clock we crossed the southern
end of the underground sea, bringing the northeasterly
curve of the shore athwart us. The jungle was some-
what sparser here, the littoral zone being mainly com-
posed of fallen rocks and tons of washed-up sand. So
close were the walls to the water that on several occa-
sions we sailed within a furlong of them. The discov-
ery of a large cavern mouth above the jungle came al-
most at the same time that the wind began to drive us
into the land in our inability to tack against it.
''What do you sa}^ to tying up and having a look into
-that passage ?" suggested Roger. ''The canteen is
about empty anyway. We'll have to fill up with fresh
water."
I well remember that no amphibs were in sight
when we moored the raft to a half-buried drift log.
Nevertheless, we carried our equipment with us, even
to the camera and both head-lamps, for we could not
risk having it destroyed or carried away by the cun-
ning creatures.
The cavern that had lured us in proved a disappoint-
ment. After leading us back about a quarter of a mile
into dense darkness, it rapidly diminished to a crevice
so narrow that we could not squeeze through. But we
found spring water in abundance, and also a miniature
rainstorm before we returned to the twilight of the
cave-world and the inland sea.
On breaking out of the thicket just above the spot
where we had moored the Ra-mbler, we were startled to
see a dozen or so amphibs leap off the bank into the
sea. Hurrying down to the raft, we found that we had
returned none too soon; the mooring rope had been
chewed half through. Had we been a moment latefj
1086
AMAZING STORIES
we divined that our precious transport would have have
been putting to sea under the power of alien hands and
webbed legs.
Climbing aboard again, we furled the sail and began
poling along in the shallows against the wind, rowing
or paddling when we could not touch bottom. We were
on the point of tying up again and camping for the
night when the wind suddenly fell to fitful gusts, and
in a few moments sprang up stronger out of the south-
east. Again we set the sail and stood out to sea, drift-
ing farther and farther from shore in spite of our
efforts to keep a straight course. By six o'clock we
had raised a large group of islands, and on drawing
near them in search of a good place to land for the
night, or the period of rest, we were attracted by some
queer formations looming through the ferns and cycads
that grew densely down to the water's edge.
'‘They look like ant-hills/' remarked Roger, as we
drew in the sail and rowed up to the shore.
Between the drooping palm leaves we found the
mouth of a tiny cove, and into this we poled the raft,
delighted to find a kind of lagoon, about a furlong wide
and twice as long. Tying up to the bank, after an ex-
tensive observation of the dark vegetation, we set out
to investigate what we had seen from the sea.
Not fifty steps from the lagoon we came upon an odd
looking mound of dried mud, the surface of which
seemed to have been smoothed by a water finish.
Walking around it cautiously, we were further inter-
ested when we found no sign of an entrance. I was
about to strike the wall with the axe when Roger called
our attention to another similar mound not a dozen feet
from the first, half hidden by a thorny thicket of un-
nameable weeds. In the space of five minutes we lo-
cated a dozen of the mounds, varying from about five
feet in diameter to a gigantic edifice more than twenty
feet high and forty feet in diameter. And augmenting
the sinister oddity of the mounds was the cemeterial
desolation of the jungle. We did not find so much as
a worm or a snail alive, and the few tracks here and
there were far from recent.
"Looks like Goldsmith's 'Deserted Village' doc-
tored up by Edgar Allen Poe/' said Roger facetiously.
"Seems more like a grave yard to me/' rejoined
Willa. "What do you suppose is inside of them?"
"I think we can find out easily enough/' I said.
There was no stemming our curiosity once we had
succumbed to the lure of an unsolved mystery. Half-
convinced -that the mounds were either ant hills or
graves, we attacked a small one with pick and axe.
The walls were hard and thick, built as if by giant
wasps, but within a few minutes we reached an inner
cavity. The moment we broke through, a fetid gas
rushed out, almost strangling us before we could back
away,
"Smells like sulphuretted hydrogen and something
else," I said, when I had recovered from a fit of cough-
ing. "We couldn't stand much of that in a close place."
But the gas dissipated quickly in the fresh air, and
we cautiously set about enlarging the hole in the wall.
After breaking down a third of the mound, we found
that it was merely the roof of a large pit, half filled
with sea water. Using the head-lamp in the dark
chamber, I discovered a low tunnel, partly submerged,
which led away in the direction of the lagoon.
Thrusting my alpenstock into the pit, I succeeded in
touching bottom, and it was while poking about with
the staff that I encountered an obstruction of some
kind. Hoping to clear up the mystery of the mounds,
and assured that the gas was no longer strong enough
to be fatal or distressing, I dropped down to a ledge of
mud and stones, which had been built just above the
water line. What I brought up from the water after
several minutes' fishing was the skull of an amphib. I
threw this out for Roger and Willa to examine and
presently discovered that an entire skeleton was sub-
merged at the bottom of the pit. Extending the investi-
gation to the lateral tunnel, I found a second skeleton,
lying with head toward the pit.
"Could this be a cemetery of the amphibs?" Willa
asked when I had climbed out of the pit.
"It might be/' I said. "But if so, they haven't
seemed very careful how they laid away the bodies.
And why all the space for one or two bodies? Then
there is that mud-shelf around the walls ; it looks to me
like some kind of bed. I found traces of rotted leaves
and sea weed, which could have been used for food or
comfort."
"I'll tell you what," broke in Roger, "these mounds
once were dwellings of the creatures."
"Once?" interpolated Willa. "But they wouldn't
leave dead bodies in their houses."
"Of course not," hastened Roger. "They abandoned
the dwellings for some reason— that gas for instance.
It might have killed a lot of them before they found
out it was forming. Those that escaped with their lives
never came back, and they were forced to leave their
dead behind. That skeleton in the tunnel might be
the remains of one that tried to reach the bodies after
the disaster."
Roger's explanation sounded as plausible as any, and
after we had broken into another mound and found
three more skeletons — ^these lodged together in the water
as if they had died embraced— we were sure that the
deadly gases generated in the close chambers and pas-
sages, had either destroyed all the inhabitants, or had
driven away the few that had escaped alive.
The ledges built about the water line proved with
reasonable certainty to be the beds on which the amphibs
had slept, close to their cherished sea water and
safe from the monsters of sky, land and sea. The hive-
like roofs seemed to be for protection against the ptero-
dactyls, or else from high winds and storms, which
were possible in a cavity so large as to produce varying
air currents. Through the tunnels, or sunken runways,
the creatures could have reached the lagoon without
exposing themselves, while no sea monster large enough
to devour them could follow them into the homes.
We decided that the smaller mounds were the pri-
vate dwellings, and the large central edifice a sort of
assembly room where all could congregate in perfect
security. On exploring further, we came upon a cir-
cular plaza paved with hard-packed mud, and just be-
ginning to be overrun by vegetation. Recalling the
queer dancing of one of the frog-men, we guessed that
the paving was a kind of open air theater, or ceremonial
area. Deep circles had been drawn in the mud before
it had dried, and the space, inside several of these de-
signs, was deeply worn as if from the shuffling of
countless feet over a long period of time.
Enthralled by the mystery of the deserted city, we
had started back to the raft, when Willa dropped be-
hind to adjust a pack-strap. Her piercing scream
brought us sharply about. She was staring into the
THE TOMB OF TIME
1087
jungle on the rights as if beholding a ghost. As Roger
and I ran- back to her side, the cackling laughter of
amphibs, fleeing through the bushes, gave us a chill of
dread. While we stood listening, we heard a number of
bodies strike the water on the west side of the island.
While we were engrossed in investigating the mounds,
the creatures must have stolen up out of the sea, from
which they were following our every movement.
^'Two of them were so close 1 though they were
going to touch me” Willa laughed off her scare. “And
their big mouths seemed to be grinning as if 'they knew
how frightened I was going to be when I saw them/'
Though I did not speak of it aloud, I suddenly was
seized with a dire suspicion. Were the amphibs more
interested in Willa than in Roger and me? While we
rowed out of the lagoon and into the sea, looking for
a less gruesome site for a night camp, I still was con-
juring fearful, though I hoped groundless, visions of
the future.
CHAPTER XII
W E passed the second night on a tiny islet more
than a mile from the deserted city of the
amphibs. In the certainty that we had humanlike
intelligences to deal with, we confidently expected an
effort at retaliation for the deadly dynamiting at the
beach, if not for the chance rifle shot ; but, with the raft
pulled up on a rocky shoal, and the watch kept as
usual, the amphibs did nothing more than maintain
an incessant vigil from a safe distance to sea. I think
we would all have preferred even lethal action to the
suspense of waiting, which only augmented our fore-
bodings as to the arch cunning of the reptile men.
Toward morning, during the latter half of my watch,
the air currents of the cave world were suddenly
whipped to a frenzy by some abrupt variation of the
upper temperatures, which I was unable to account for.
Such a wind-storm I had never heard of ; it lashed and
bellowed at our island camp as if a berserk Poseidon^
were trying to blow us into the earth. The mountain-
ous waves thundered from every direction, sometimes
standing almost straight up in a momentary calm, only
to be smashed and torn to sprindrift the next minute
by. a cyclonic buffet from the storm-king. Fortunately,
I had furled our precious sail firmly to the boom, else
it would have been torn to ribbons in the first few min-
utes of the subterranean tempest.
After nearly an hour of incredible hurricane the wind
suddenly abated and a deep, depressing calm settled
over the lurching sea. Driven from their beds at the
beginning of the storm, Roger and Willa joined me on
the island beach, as I surveyed the infuriated deep,
and we were unanimous in thanking our lucky stars that
we had not been at sea during the blow.
There could be no more sleep for any one after the
fearful violence of the storm. We breakfasted early,
and in wait for the waves to die down, set to work im-
proving the Ramibler by building a gunwale all around
and designing a larger, more effective steering gear.
Also we contrived wide outriggers to increase the sta-
bility of what we now termed our “junk," not only be-
cause it resembled the Chinese craft by that name, but
because it partook of the industry of small boys, who
had had access to a city dumping ground.
The storm had more serious results than the break-
* The Greek name of the god of the sea, Neptune.
ing in on our scheduled hours of rest. Before the
waves had quieted a gigantic sea-monster, somewhat like
a manatee, was thrown up on the island. Though seri-
ously injured, it still was sufficiently alive to be danger-
ous, and let it smash our raft and us also in its Cyclo-
pean death throes, I threw a dynamite bomb into its
cavernous jaws. We had no sooner recovered from the
gruesome experience with the sea-monster when three
amphibs were washed ashore— sad evidence of what
had ostensibly happened to the quota of spies which had
been caught by the hurricane during their surveillance
of our night camp.
Shortly after noon the sea had calmed sufficiently
for us to risk the launching of the raft, and though the
breeze that sprang up was not in the direction we
desired, we started out, tacking as best we could, with
the help .of the oars, and making slow progress north-
ward along the eastern shore.
On the lookout with the glasses, Willa reported sev-
eral amphibs swimming in our wake, just beyond rifle
range as usual. Later, two of them made so bold as to
come up under the raft. But the moment they meant
to interfere with our sailing we guessed what was
wrong. Firing several shots from the pistols through
the interstices between the deck-logs, we killed one and
frightened tlie other away. To say that we accom-
plished this with any calmness or bold strategy would
be to credit us with more fortitude than we possessed.
Then and there, we had another spirited argument as
to whether it was wise to go on. Again I was over-
whelmed in my percautioiiary contentions by the stub-
born determination of Roger and Willa. Ordinarily
it should have been the other way around— but I was
not at heart an adventurer — a fact which explained
why I had pondered over books and magnifying
glasses, while Roger Anson and his daughter had sought
big game in Africa.
Late that afternoon the capricious wind, changed
again in our favor, and over a sea preternaturally calm,
we sailed past endless, primeval woodlands between the
sea and the cliffs, finding no passages meriting a land-
ing, and sighting numerous dinosaurs of various
species, also a large eel, or sea-serpent, which writhed
perilously near the raft, but submerged the instant I
set off a stick of dynamite near its head.
At five o'clock the temperature had become noticeably
warmer — a sort of muggy, depressive heat, signifying
imtisually high humidity. We discovered that we were
passing through numerous belts of tepid water like
miniature Gulf Streams. Peculiar streamers of vapor
appeared ahead of us, vanishing as we neared them
like fantastical mirages. The dome of the cave-world
gradually became lower, until we could distinguish the
internal movements of the luminous masses which cast
their ghastly radiance over the sunken sea. Though the
wind held fair behind us, it became distressingly hot,
the clouds disappearing entirely, the atmosphere was
charged with steamy moisture, which drifted back the
way we had come to the colder altitudes where it was
transformed into visible vapor.
A distant hissing at length attracted our attention,
which we were unable to explain or locate. Roger held
that it was a geyser, and for want of a better theory
Willa and I agreed with him.
The realization that we were approaching the north-
ern extremity of the sunken sea drove from our minds
all thought of time and appetite. At six. o'clock we
1088
AMAZING STORIES
still were wallowing northward^ our only reason for
knowing the time being the method we used of estimat-
ing the distance had gone, by multiplying speed
and time sailed, wdiich though extremely inaccurate,
was better than nothing, since it gave us a sense of mas-
tery over our strange ship and the stranger waters we
cruised through.
Warning of red-hot matter not far ahead came with
the increasing prevalence of heated currents in the sea.
The cold belts became as rare as the warm had been,
and at many points one could not hold a hand long
under- water without having it painfully heated. What
we had first heard as a faint sibilation had grown to a
deep roaring as of escaping steam, interspersed with a
prodigious gurgling. Now and again, as we sailed on,
masses of air bubbles burst out of the water around us,
splashing hands and face with stinging hot drops.
Somewhere below, we divined, the sea floor was boiling
hot, and we w^ere fast nearing the source of the terrific
heat.
The distance between the eastern and western walls
had rapidly diminished until both banks were clearly
visible, when we perceived, far ahead through the twi-
light glow, a reddish glare that spanned the whole
northwestern horizon. Gargantuan shapes of w^hite,
flushed with crimson, appeared and disappeared against
the rubescent background, constantly changing, casting
monstrous shadows over the sea and the surrounding
w^alls. Accompanied as they were by the roar of steam,
we soon recognized the phenomena as columns of steam
shooting up from the sea.
Ail vegetation had disappeared from the shores by
this time, only the barren rocks and wave-sediment
sloping down from the beetling ramparts of granite.
Needless to say, we long since had passed the barrier
for living beings; no aquatic life could have existed in
the steaming deep or found sustenance for support on
the sterile, baking shores. And though w’e well knew
w^hat danger we were sailing into, we were so fascinated
by the terrible abyss that we could not turn back. Here
ivere the grand and awful wonders of the earth^s
core, rising before us out of the steaming sea, like a
materialized Dantean phantasm. Our lives and all life
seemed but trifling mechanisms before this evidence of
what, had slept beneath us for untold centuries.
''Volcano!'' cried Villa from her post with the field
glasses on the framework bracing the mast.
''Shall we go back?” I asked from my cramped po-
sition in the bowq wiping the perspiration from my
face in handfuls.
"No; go on,” she urged. "I think I can see the
northern end of the sea, or else a narrow strait. There
are caverns just above the water line-scores of them.
They must be old lava vents.”
The play of the steam jets in the northwest became
more clearly discernible, while the explosive sounds of
boiling water forced us to shout when we spoke, which
was rarely. A vast lake, or crater, of molten lava ap-
peared to lie just above and beyond the edge of the
sea in the northwest. Rivulets of flame spilled over the
rim, or spurted out in slight convulsions, causing the
eruptions of steam, while the deeper emanations of heat
threw up the bubbles that sucked and crackled every-
where. The eastern walls, which we had been follow-
ing closely, now revealed unmistakable signs of volanic
action. W e passed several small craters, apparently
extinct, whose rims came down to the water's edge.
The wind having fallen to fitful gusts and the evulsions
of boiling water became so violent as to be unendurable,
we ran the raft aground on the slope of a craterlet, and
after mooring it to a boulder, proceeded on foot along
the rims of the craters on the eastern shore.
We were unable to estimate the depths of the chasms
we passed, nor did I stop to use the plummet, for I
divined my line was not long enough to reach bottom
of the least of them.
Skirting a maze of fumaroles that bulged out into
the sea to the left, we came at length to a crater of
enormous extent, v/hose mouth might have swallowed
the whole of the sunken sea had the seaward rim been
broken through deeply enough. Pausing on the edge
of this gloomy pit, we gazed fascinatedly into tlie
shadows. I felt a panicky desire to plunge head fore-
most into the depths, and my morbid impulse must
have been shared by Roger and Willa, for we all
started on hurriedly without speaking.
Picking our way along the vitreous banks of the cra-
ters, we mentioned the possibility of a convulsion open-
ing the natural dikes and emptying the sea into the
crater maws. The mere imagination of such a catac-
lysm was appalling. Then the rounding of a bluff
brought us into view of the northern walls of the sea,
and we paused in mute marvel at the weirdly beautiful
scene. Far to our left, in a variegated curve, the cliffs
leaned like towers of Pisa toward the cave-dome, their
massive, adamant fronts flickering eerily in the gaseous
glare of the volcano. Swaying to and fro, falling,
eddying, spraying, the vast shadows of the geysers
overcast the water and the walls with pantomime of
demon shades, all dancing to the stertorian symphony
of rushing steam and boiling water.
"The door of Hades,” muttered Roger, huskily,
glancing back at the abyss we had just passed, "I
wouldn't be surprised to see Charon rowing up to ferry
us over to the devil.”
But the caverns, or lava vents, honeycombing the
cliffs just ahead, soon drew us on. At last we felt we
were on the track of an outlet leading to some moiiiitaiii
crevice or little known surface cavern, and we even
looked forward hopefully to an underground stream
which by some far-fetched chance might empty into the
deep canyon of a Grand River tributary.
Entering one of the largest caverns, we advanced be-
yond the reach of the dim light of the cave-world,
climbing steadily downward, until our headlamps re-
vealed a sudden drop into darkness. The chasm proved
too wide to leap and there was no way around it. Forced
to turn back, we tried another passage farther on.
Again the way led downward a short distance, and
again we were brought up at the brink of a precipice
which seemed the same that had stopped us in our first
venture. But a third passage, chosen at considerable
distance from the luckless ones, led upward gradually
for several hundred yards; and after crossing numer-
ous tiny streams, some warm, some icy cold, we came to
a slow-flowing underground river, which was large
enough to have been navigable by our raft if we had
had it with us. However, we had no intention of haz-
arding a voyage into the blackness of the unknown
river channel, until vre were satisfied that none of the
passages led directly to the surface.
Overcome at last by vreariiiess and hunger, we re-
turned to the raft, resolved to continue our investi-
gations of the fumaroles next day. Owing to the heat
THE TOMB OF TIME
1089
and our fatigue, we abandoned the tedious task of row--
ing the raft out of the hot water,, and tied up again,
going on foot to a point where the sea-breeze once more
blew" cool and fresh from the iinheated w^aters to the
south. Though we had left our ship a half hour's m^alk
behind j we had no fear of the amphibs tampering with
it; the hot water prevented them from approaching it
by sea, while we wmuld be on -watch if an attempt was
made to advance by the narrow strip of coast land
under the cliffs.
For two days ensuing we searched the volcanic pass“
ages for an outlet without success, yet we m-ere not un^
duely disheartened; there were many passages still to
be explored, and the dinosaur meat, combined with a
fairly palatable root located in the jungle, would keep
us well nourished for an indefinite period.
On the seventh day after entering the cave-world, we
decided to return to the landslide under Hamlet Hall
and ascertain whether any efforts were being made to
rescue us, ivhicli we hoped to detect by the sounds of
drills or blasting. Without mishap, we made the voy-
age back to the southern walls of the inland deep.
Under the plateau, where we had shot the first ptero-
dactyl, we hauled our raft with its bow out of the
m-^ater. There was little more we could do to protect
it from the amphibs, m^ho we doubted would not
meddle with it before we returned, if, indeed, we ever
returned. However, we took down the sail and divided
the component parts into their original personal utilities.
In high spirits we set out up the gorge, and hours
later came to the spot where we had climbed down out
of the clogged gallery. To our horror we found that
another cave-in had buried the shaft completely. Dyna-
miting desperately, we wasted three sticks of our dimin-
ishing supply of explosives, only to prove conclusively
that we could never get out of the gorge.
Not until the crushed body of an amphib was un-
covered by the blasting did we suspect that there had
been foul play. From then on we were certain that the
reptile men had had something to do with our last and
greatest misfortune.
CHAPTER XIII
E arly the day after the discovery of the buried
shaft we retraced our steps through the under-
ground gorge to the abyss of forgotten ages, re-
solved to find a way to the surface through the caverns
at the northern end of the sea, or die trying. As we
had anticipated, the Rmnbler was nowhere to be seen
wdien we came out of the jungle on the spot where we
had left it. Nor was there any doubt as to the per-
f3etrators of the mischief. Everywhere in the sand
were the tracks of the enemies, deep and dragged out
\vhere they had pushed and hauled the heavy craft into
the water.
But m^e had little trouble in locating the missing
raft. Proceeding northward along the beach, we
sighted it, aground in the breakers near wdiicli we first
had encountered the amphibs. Willa and I volun-
teered to get the raft off the rocks, since we were the
most active in the water, and after a perilous half hour
of battling the surf, we succeeded. Beaching the Ramb-
ler, we found it had been very little damaged by the
buffeting of the combers, and we were not long in mak-
ing the necessary repairs.
^3nce more afloat m the twilight mists of the inlatid
deep, we flattered ourselves that we had again outwitted
the cunning enemies by salvaging the raft, which we
believed they had turned loose in the breakers to pre-
vent our recovering it. But when a dozen of them
popped out of the waves just out of rifle range as
usual, we did not feel so jubilant, for there was some-
thing undeniably sinister in their ceaseless vigilance and
repeated attempts to frustrate our plans. What with
an unfavorable wind, against which we wallowed close-
hauled if we may call it so, for hours with scarcely
any northing, it was a thoroughly miserable trio of
castaways that finally headed into a group of islands for
the night.
It was while looking for a suitable stretch of beach
on which to ground the Rmnbler that we made a dis-
turbing discovery. One of the largest islands was the
site of the amphibs' village. Through the giant palms
and catkins we made out several, low, gray mounds
similar to those of the deserted city explored several
days before. And this time we felt certain that the
mounds would be found inhabited had we cared to in-
vestigate, but we did not; on the contrary, we passed
by several good landing places near the island village
before beaching the Rambler.
'At supper the talk was all of the caverns in the north
and our hope of finding an outlet there. Even the near-
ness of the island village was not sufficient to arouse
any real fear of the inhabitants, whose .hostilities, we
were satisfied, would never be more than petty thievery
and cowardly skulking.
So tired was I, when I made my bed in the sand,
that I refused to get up and look when Roger sang
out that a score of amphibs were watching us from
the sea. The last I remember before falling asleep is
an entrancing vision of Willa Anson making her bed
like some primitive nomad in the days of evolutionary
infancy.
What really awakened me several hours later I never
was to learn. I sat up in a quiver of horror, positive
that some frightful sound had reached my ears, pene-
trating the veil of sleep. Glancing anxiously around, I
saw Roger asleep near by and the Ramihler lying half
out of the water as we had left it. Willa, however,
was nowhere to be seen.
Looking at my watch, I saw that her trick had still
another hour to run, and according to our agreement
she should have been within easy call and plain view.
Still shaky as a result of my unnatural awakening, I
got up to look for her.
The wind had lain, and all around the island the
waves pitched lazily, as if covered with oil. Never
before had the tomb like silence of the cave-world so
depressed me. It was as if the dank air vibrated with
a gruesome message of doom.
A light splash behind me, as I surveyed the interior •
of the island, brought me sharply about. Not fifty
yards from shore I could see the ripples made by a
suddenly submerged body, and I did mot doubt that it
had been an amphib, made overbold by the absence of
our sentry. Farther out to sea I made out three float-
ing dots, wdiich gave me the uncomfortable feeling that
every move I made was being watched.
Again I turned to the jungle, approaching the dense
thickets and calling softly, so as not to awaken Roger.
In vain I tried to convince myself that nothing had
happened to Willa, that she would presently come walk-
ing' out ot the jungle to laugh away my^ lorebodmgs.
1090
AMAZING STORIES
Again I called, louder this time, and again there was
no answer but the sibilant slapping of the waves on
the beach.
Breaking into the undergrowth a little way, I shouted
a third time at the top of my voice, my heart turning
to ice as only the eerie silence of the cave-world met
my ears.
No one could have slept through the wild hallooing
that I presently broke out with. As I paused to listen
again, I heard Roger panting up behind me.
^^She^s gone!” I choked out before he could speak,
and for a moment of dumb agony, we stared together
into the poisonous thickets that overran the interior of
the island.
It was the dull glint of metal, catching my eyes
through the thickets, that finally overcame the inertia
of dread. Lunging ahead into the tangle, Roger close
behind, I stumbled over Willa's rifle. The stock and
magazine were covered with dirt and crushed leaves
as if it had been thrown down violently by a powerful
hand.
Scarcely a dozen steps from the first clue we found
Willa's hat, crushed into the oozy soil by a heavy foot.
Dropping to hands and knees, we soon verified our
suspicions when we discovered several web-toed foot-
prints. There seemed to have been a brief struggle,
for the boot tracks were deeply impressed and mingled
in disorderly fashion with the other tracks for some
distance into the brush. Then only the tracks of the
amphibs showed in the jungle floor, and we could not
help but believe that they had carried Willa away.
Following the plain trail through the dense thickets,
we soon reached the opposite shore of the island, which
was not more than an acre in extent. Breaking out at
the edge of the sea, our worst fears were corrobated,
when we saw that the trail seemed to lead into the
water. There was no way of avoiding the horrifying
suspicion that the frog-men had dragged their captive
into the sea.
For a moment Roger stared out over the greenish
surface of the inland deep, then he sank down, liis
face in his hands. But I was not so ready to accept
the obvious.
''There's a chance,” I insisted, desperately. ''They
are powerful swimmers. They could keep her head
above water indefinitely. Remember that colony we
saw last night on the way here? If they've taken her
oif the island well find her there— dead or alive. And
it's got to be alive. Come on !”
Pulling himself together, Roger helped me search the
island thoroughly for further clues to Willa's disap-
pearance. But we found nothing more. As the truth
become more vividly impressed on our tortured imagi-
nations, I think we would have preferred finding her
dead body rather than to be forced to accept any other
alternative possibility of her probable fate.
Panting, stumbling in our desperate anxiety, we
abandoned the fruitless search of the jungle. Running
down to the beach, we piled the dunnage aboard the
Rambler and pushed off. That more than a score of
omphibs had appeared on the water south of the island
increased our certainty that they knew more than we
did, of what had happened to Willa.
Just how we reached the island where we had seen
the gray domes of the colony I do not clearly recall.
Yet I was in cool command of myself when we found
the entrance to a lagoon and poled the raft through the
overhanging leaves into a tiny bay almost completely
surrounded by land.
A score of mounds were visible the moment we
passed through the inlet. Only one marked difference
was there between this colony and the abandoned one
we had previously explored : the outlets of the tunnels
leading from pit to pit were plainly visible around the
banks of the lagoon, being about half-filled with water.
Ripples were widening around some of the dark open-
ings where their sentries had been on watch as we
came in.
"If she's alive they've got her in one of those nest-
pits,” I called to Roger as we held the Rambler with
our poles until it stopped drifting.
"But it's sure death in there,” he groaned. "They
can get at us under water,” Then he muttered grimly:
"I guess we might as well die now as later* If we
can't find Willa I don't care to get out of here alive.”
"Nor I,” I agreed with all my heart. "But Fm going
in alone. You've got to watch the outlets and see
that they don't get away with her while I'm under-
ground. If I fail it will be time enough for you to
try,”
Roger shuddered as I began poling the raft toward
one of the dark, mud- walled passages. I knew he was
picturing the grisly possibilities of Willa's fate, but I
did not give him time to change his mind about our
plans as I prepared for the venture into the colony
catacombs.
My only real hope of succeeding lay in the fear the
enemy had of our explosives. In such close quar-
ters I would not dare to use dynamite, yet they would
nevertheless expect me to use it, and besides, with
Roger's pistol and my own, I would be far from ac-
tually helplessness. Moreover, the head-lamp would
blind their eyes.
As I stepped off the raft into the mouth of the arched
passage, Roger seized one of my hands in his and mur-
mured broken encouragement. For all I knew those
T ere the last words I was ever to hear from a human
being, yet with a courage that was almost madness—
the courage of the bereaved lover~I plunged into the
shadows, wading waist deep in dark, still water that-
reminded me of the bilge in a ship's hold.
CHAPTER XIV
T he beam of the head-lamp gleamed eerily on
the dripping walls of the dungeonlike passage as
I waded on into the Stygian darkness. A smell
like gasses from a leaky furnace saturated the dank air,
making breathing exceedingly difficult. Alert for any
increase in the depth of the water, I felt my way along,
holding the pistols ready for quick action if the amphibs
attacked me. At least I could feel sure that all
danger lay ahead, for Roger would prevent the crea-
tures from coming in behind me through the lagoon
entrance. All I could think of as I plowed on through
the dark water was that somewhere ahead, in the foul
nest-pits of the amphibs was Willa Anson, a helpless
captive of man-beasts whose real nature we did not yet
know.
For fifty yards I made my way down the almost
straight channel in a silence so deep, that I could hear
the hammering of my heart. I had begun to fear
that the colony had all escaped, carrying Willa with
them, when a light splash in the darkness beyond my
THE TOMB OF TIME
1091
head-lamp's rays informed me that the enemy was
close at hand. Hardly had I come to a stop, tensed for
a struggle, when the oily-surfaced water heaved up in
a moving streak of bubbles that shot straight for me.
It was a creature attacking under water.
Twice I fired at the curving front of the ripples—
just before it reached me. Cold, powerful hands drag-
,ged at my legs, as I strove to leap aside through the
water. But the pistol shots had taken effect. Hardly
had the hands closed on my leg before they relaxed, and
the huge, gray belly of a dead atnphib broke the sur-
face close by.
Again a streak of agitated water shot out of the
darkness ahead ; again I fired at the hair-pin shaped front
of the ripples. Then, all through the maze of under-
ground passages a dismal howling broke out, and the
second animal came to the surface, the bullet-riddled
body staining the water with dark blood.
Braced against the slimy wall I awaited another at-
tack, but none came. The enemy could not face the
mysterious thunder of the pistols, which must have
sounded like dynamite in the narrow, amplifying walls
of the catacombs.
I thought I heard the faint shout of Roger Anson,
far behind me, as I plowed on through the bloody
water.
There was no more opposition to my advance. I
reached the first of the mud-roofed nest-pits without
mishap, while the fearful screeching and howling of
the frightened inhabitants became fainter and fainter,
as they fled deeper into the network of waterways con-
necting the nest-pits.
Playing the rays of my lamp about the walls of the
well-like hollow in which I found myself, I saw many
signs of recent occupancy. Three infants, that looked
like monster eels with rudimentary legs, lay abandoned
in a mass of sea-weed on the mud-shelf, or bed, that
overhung the water. Almost ready to give up finding
a sign of Willa's presence there, I came upon the im-
pression of a small boot in the damp mud. I was on
the right trail. They had carried her through this pass-
age !
Filled with exultation at the propitious sign, I cupped
my palms for a megaphone and shouted with all the
strength of my lungs down the continuation of the
waterway on the right.
^Willa! WillaT'
Listening with bated breath, my heart sank. Ominous
stillness had followed my echoing shouts. Desperate
again in my despair, I lurched under the mud arch-
way that led deeper into the honeycombed island. That
I might get lost did not trouble me, for I knew that I
could break my way to the surface through any of the
nest-pit roofs.
Stopping frequently to shout, I forged on into the
evil-smelling passage. By switching off the search-
light I was able to tell by the feeble phosphorescent
glow that I was nearing another nest-pit. The amphibs
seemed to use the luminous substance of the cave-wmrld
to light their gloomy dens. The cries of the amphibs
broke out louder somewhere close by, and I could
hear loud splashes as they took to the waterways.
Then, in answer to my repeated calling, a sound
reached my ears that fairly raised the hair on my head.
It was a piercing scream — a woman's scream — suddenly
cut off as by a throttling hand. Willa had answered.
She was alive!
I plunged on faster through the water, nearly losing
my footing as I drove my legs too violently against
the grip of the hip-deep brine. Again and again I called
out encouragement to Willa, firing my pistol to in-
timidate the amphibs that might be guarding her.
The shouting and pistol shots had an even better ef-
fect than I had hoped for. Bursting into the nest-pit
I had been approaching, I found only two of them
and struggling in their hands, as they strove to carry
her into another passage, was Willa Anson.
I dared not fire at once for fear of hitting Willa, but
I leaped at the creatures with clubbed pistols. Opening
their cavernous mouths and uttering horrid screeches,
they let Willa go and lunged to meet me. It was ex-
actly what I wanted. With Willa out of the way, I
fired rapidly at point Hank range, while thrills of stark
horror coursed through me. One went down in the
middle of the pit, the other collapsed even as he clutched
to drag me under water.
Tearing myself loose from the hideous, death-locked
hands, I ran to Willa's side, as she lay exhausted on
the mud shelf just above the water line. The howling
of the amphibs in the deeper passages had broken
out with redoubled volume by the time I had raised
Willa's head in my hands, pouring out broken express-
ions of thankfulness as I found that she had not been
harmed.
“Bob ! Bob L she moaned, opening her horror-
widened eyes. “I thought you'd never come.”
“We can't stay here!” I cried, pressing one of the
pistols into her hands as she revived. “Stand guard
while I break out through the roof of the pit. They
may rush us in a mob any minute,”
The distant howling of the colony had grown much
nearer by the time I had drawn my camp-axe and at-
tacked the roof of the pit. There was an ominous
note, not entirely fear, in the voices of the enemy.
It was like the roar of a maddened mob that gathers
courage in numbers to avenge some offense against
society.
“They're coming!” Willa called in despair. “Hurry,
hurry !”
I redoubled my blows on the mud roof. The frag-
ments flew all about us, spattering over the murky
water under the shelf on which we stood. It seemed
I never would get through that thick, mud vault, which
reminded me of a beaver's home. But at last the blade
of the axe bit through and I began frantically widening
the gap.
The heavy splashes of the amphibs leaping in and
out of the shallow water of the runways were echoing
in the nest-pit by the time I had made a hole large
enough to let us out. In a moment I had pushed Willa
up and through and had scrambled after her, gasping in
the fresh air of the jungle with a relief that knew no
bounds.
“Which way is the raft?” Willa was calling as we
stared about us through the stalks of giant cattails and
ferns.
At first I was as confused as she as to directions, but
not for long. A heavy explosion sounded on the left— “
Roger Anson with the dynamite bombs — and toward
the sound we ran, crashing through the dense thickets
and circling the gray domes of the nest-pits. Behind
us, speeding us on, we heard the maddened screech
of the first amphibs trying to emerge from the hole by
which we had escaped.
1092
AMAZING STORIES
When we broke out of tlie jungle at the edge of the
lagoon we saw Roger poised at the stern of the Ramb-
ler, dynamite and lighter held in readiness for a deadly
cast. All around him floated the dead bodies of the
enemy. They had evidently rushed Mtiiy as they poured
out of the invaded catacombs on their way to the sea.
Roger's glad shout as he caught sight of Willa and
me iiiiist ever remain vividly in my memory as the
climax of a most frightful experience. But there was
no time to congratulate ourselves. The jungle was
teeming with enraged beings, who at any moment
might lose their terror of our explosives in a mob
frenzy that would overwhelm us with numbers.
As Willa and I splashed out to the raft 'and climbed
aboard, Roger had already begun poling out to sea. We
lent eager hands, and before the first of the amphibs
had appeared on the banks we had reached the outlet
of the lagoon. But we had forgotten that the water
was the place to look for real hostilities from the amphib-
ian creatures. Unseen by any of us scores of them had
been swimming out of the tunnels into the lagoon. It
was while we were hastening to set the sail that we
felt the Rambler lurch heavily and come to a dead stop.
The frog-men had seized the bottom on the raft.
"‘Lie down!'' yelled Roger, who still held the dyna-
mite bomb,
Willa and I dropped to the deck as Roger knelt and
lighted a short fuse. The stick landed close to the gun-
wale, exploding just under water and throwing sea
water over us. As we struggled to our feet we saw
the dead bodies of several of them rise to the surface
all around, while the raft drifted out of their clutches.
Fortunately for us a stiff breeze had sprung up out
of the south during our invasion of the colony. With
the sail drawing to full capacity, and our poles and oars
helping, we quickly left the islands behind, heading for
the volcano in the north and the heated belts of water
vvhere the amphibs could not follow.
We were nearly half a mile from the outer fringe
of the group of islands before we saw anything more
of the enemy. Then the sea behind its was suddenly
speckled with bobbing heads as they came up to watch
us.
"'They're trying to surround us!" Roger cried a
moment later, as the right and left wings of the sea
horde began to swim past us on either side, forming a
widening half moon.
"Tf we're going to make the volcano before they head
us off well have to make better time than this," lie con-
cluded.
"'But we can hold them, off till Doomsday with the
dynamite," I called back.
""No, we can't," was his disconcerting reply. "T used
the last stick back there at the mouth of the lagoon!"
CHAPTER XV
A HALF hour after our escape from the island
colony the twilight sea of the cave-world was
thronged with the ciueer, rounded heads of
countless amphibs. They were deploying rapidly, with
almost military precision, forming a huge circle around
the raft, right and left flanks swimming ahead and leav-
ing a string of skirmishers behind. It was as if every
being in the subterranean deep had been summoned
to avenge our invasion of the colony and our thwart-
ing of whatever plans they had had for Willa Anson.
Never before had we 'seen the creatures in such
numbers, or so determinedly hostile, and with the last
of the dynamite gone, we despaired repelling them once
they overcame their fear of our weapons sufficiently to
rush us en masse. Only our certainty that they did not
know we had run out of dynamite gave us hope of
reaching the heated water near the volcano safely,
where the creatures must turn back, or follow us by
land against the scorching heat of the crater.
Reloading _ the rifles and pistols and trimming the
sail to draw every puff of the precious breeze, we set-
tled down for a grim vigil, never knowing when a de-
tachment of amphibs might .^vim up under water and
capsize us, or hold fast to the raft while the others
swarmed aboard and dragged us into the sea.
While we watched, praying silently for more wind,
Willa related, in a low, tense voice, how she had been
lured into the jungle early that morning by strange
noises, and how skulking beings had overpowered
her before she could give the alarm. Muffling her out-
cries, they had carried her into the sea, where powerful
swimmers had towed her to the island colony. Only
her own proficiency in the water had enabled her to
survive that wild ride on the shoulders of the
amphibs.
“I don't know what would have happened if you
hadn't come when you did," she concluded, shuddering.
“Those man-beasts are'” capable of anything."
My hand went oiit to hers, finding an eager response.
Even Willa's proud independence had been shaken by
her terrible experience, and in any other situation I am
certain that I would then and there have confessed mv
love.
But there was no time for sentiment, nor could w^e
rejoice over our previous good fortune with the hordes
of enemies hovering so near. Eyes fixed in fearful
fascination on the ring of death closing around the raft
beyond range of the rifles, we crouched behind the gun-
w^ale of the Rambler, awaiting* the pitched battle that
seemed impending.
The islands where we had passed the night slowly
faded from sight in the luminous, moving mists to the
south. The amphibs at last completed their wide
circle around the raft, having little difficulty in keeping
pace- with us without breaking their formation. Their
only reason for such a maneuver seemed to portend
closing in on us eventually, yet an hour dragged by with
no sign of hostilities. Their fear of the dynamite and
firearms seemed as strong as ever, though we were
soon to learn that in this we were sadly mistaken.
We had begun to notice the nearing of the eastern
and western shores, indicating our approach to the nar-
row bay at the northern end of the sea, when a loud
outcry suddenly broke out from the bobbing heads of
the enemy. An ominous babbling spread from throat
to throat until the whole army of reptile men was croak-
ing in what seemed a wild battle song*
“We're in for it now," Roger called huskily from
the stern of the raft, where he had lashed the rudder to
the gunwale and had gripped his rifle in readiness for
deadly action.
Willa and I followed his example, expecting every
second to feel the shock and tug of under- water hands,
and' prepared to fire through the crevice-s in the deck
logs or to repel! boarders. But the RamMer plowed on
iiiihindered, and though we strained our eyes unaided
and also tliroiivh the field glasses, we could discern no
THE TOMB OF TIME
1093
climiniiitiori in numbers that would signify the advance
of a detachment under water.
The excited calling of the ampliibs gradually died
away. With great relief we saw that they were drift-
ing farther off instead of coming nearer. Overjoyed at
our good fortune, and vainly guessing what the out-
cries had signified, we reached the first belt of the
heated water, sighting far ahead the faint red glare of
the lake of molten lava at the nortlierii extremity of the
sunken sea.
As the teinperatiire of the water increased the ranks
of enemy broke and spread apart in front, dropping
back abreast of us and swimming toward the shores.
Sailing on into the bottle-neck bay, between the extinct
craters on the east and the active volcano in the north-
west, we watched the amphibs clamber ashore and run
along on land, weirdly motioning and screeching to one
another.
''You'll never get us now!^^ exulted Roger, shaking
his fist at the hideous figures, whose cries were now be-
ing drowned out by the hissing of the geysers at the
edge of the volcano.
The massive natural arches and pillars overhanging
the vicinity of the volcano loomed dearer and clearer,
as the raft lurched on. Almost all the amphibs had
taken to the land, a scattered few behind us, and for
some reason then unknown, the majority had gathered
on the western shore, which led to the undermined wall
confining the boiling lava. At any minute we expected
the advancing horde must turn back before the blister-
ing waves of heat from the crater core, yet they ran on
determinedly, waving their stubby arms and screeching
with such vehemence that their voices occasionally were
audible above the bellow of the geysers and the crackle
of water bubbles.
We were ready with the oars when the wind fell as
a result of the intense heat, and a dead calm settled
over the steaming sea. Keeping midway between the
banks and am^ay from the crowds of frenzied enemies,
we rowed on steadily, hoping to land at the entrance
of the caverns which we had explored two days before.
Though the boiling water was beginning to burst up
and spatter us with searing drops, we preferred a
scalding to falling into the hands of the enraged amphibs,
and we held our position in the center of the strait,
still confident that the animals would turn back as
the heat became more and more unbearable. Why they
had not attacked us before we reached the heated
waters, we could not then understand, for they seemed
to have overcome their fear of the explosives. Three
shots from Roger's unerring rifle, and as many dead
ones did not deter them in the least.
It was Willa who finally called our attention to the
real intentions of the amphibs. The masses on the
ivestern shore had begun to climb the fire-blackened
m^all of the cave- world, crawling along each ledge and
fissure toward the white-hot crater lake. Overcome by a
horror that must have been intuitive, for we did not
immediately realize exactly what they were about, we
rested helplessly on our oars, watching the climbing
enemies, the raft spinning slowly with each gurgita-
tion from the hot sea bottom.
More and more of them scaled the steep walls as
we drifted in an agony of suspense. The cliffs became
alive with writhing bodies, all gleaming dully in the
flickering light of the volcano as they edged along the
precarious footing, nearer and nearer the blistering radia-
tions of the crater. In our awyakeiiing to what the
creatures planned to do, I realized that this was what
they had been babbling about back there in the cooler
waters, when we had been so sure of escaping them.
Then the vanguard of the climbing horde reached
the edge of the crater, braving the blasts of heat and
clouds of steam and showers of hot water and mud
with a humanlike resolution to do or die.
AH around the vast crater cavity the action of ter-
rific heat through the ages had cracked and loosened
great segements of the dome and walls. It \vas upon
these crumbling masses that the amphibs concentrated,
squeezing into every crevice, pushing one upon another,
their grey bellies interlocked like ^crowded nests of
worms. More and more came up along the wall, until
the rocks were buried in a v/ave of straining bodies.
Stunned with horror, I saw the rocks begin to move
“tip forward, then back, then forward again over the
outer edge of the undermined cavity of lava. Farther
and farther over the crater's brink the rock masses
tottered as the enemies doubled and trebled their
efforts and numbers. There could be but one result if
they succeeded in uprooting those tons of crumbling
stone and lava crusts. The lake of lava, already over-
running into the sea, would dash over the low crater
rim in a flaming flood that would throw up vast quan-
tities of steam and scalding water. And we were less
than a quarter of a mile from the crater edge. The
Rambler might even be drenched and consumed by the
exploding lava.
''Row back! Row back!” Roger's frantic voice cut
through the roar of the geysers, startling me out of
my trance of horror.
But even as I reached for my oar I -realized that it
was too late to escape. We could not have gotten out
of the danger zone in the fastest motor launches, to
say nothing of the unwieldly raft in a dead calm. Our
only chance was that the fiendish work of the amphibs
would not turn out as deadly as they had planned.
With a grinding rumble the first mass of rock slid
into the volcano under the combined efforts of the
amphibs. Dust rolled up, obscuring the grisly horde and
the teetering towers of stone. A dull reverberation
presaged the sharp explosions caused by the impact of
the avalanche on the molten lava. Livid gouts of fire
dashed over the crater rim. The sea was transformed
in seconds Into a forest of spurting geysers, that sprayed
us with a fine stinging rain.
For an instant hope flamed up anew. The first small
avalanche had not been sufficient to cause a serious
eruption or overflow. Then with a suddenness, mffiidi
caught even the frog-men unawares, a vast section of
the weakened walls gave way in a swirl of dust and
lava ash. A deafening roar welled tip as the escarp-
ments crumbled and poured down. The hideous scream-
ing of stricken frog-men, caught in the ruin of their
own contrivance, joined the thunder of falling rocks,
and through the dust and steam great streamers of fire
burst out.
Instinctively, I caught Willa in my arms and pushed
her under the gumvale, shielding her body with mine
as the surface of the sea quivered with the shock of a
tremendous convulsion. Blinding waves of heat and
clouds of dust rushed over the Rambler. Even the toss-
ing of a pebble into a volcano has been known to cause
an eruption, and the falling of half the western wall
into the lava-brimming abyss could not have ended save
1094
AMAZir^t; bTOKlES
in a terrible catastrophe. We m^ere caught like rats in a
trap ; like Samson with the Philistines, the enemy
had pulled down the temple on us and destroyed them-
selves.
Explosion after explosion tore through the bluster
and shriek of the geysers. The bosom of the sea welled
up in a boiling flood, lifting the raft in dizzy circles,
while we choked and gasped for air. Rocks rained
down. The Mss of molten mud, falling into the sea#
sounded like the rattle of machine guns. Far away
and behind I heard the boom of falling walls as even the
immemorial granite was shaken down by the titanic
convulsions of the awakened volcano.
How we survived that first deadly shower of lava I
do not know. A fragment of stone, spinning down out
of the steam-fogged dome, stunned me for an instant.
When I recovered I heard Roger calling at the top of
his voice that we were drifting north at a terrific rate
of speed. A swift current, caused by the upheaval of
the sea, had caught us up and was rushing us on
through the inferno of the eruption. As I struggled to
my knees, weak and dizzy, a lurch of the raft threw
me backward, and I rolled against the limp form of
Willa Anson. A chilling fear coursed through me
as for a moment I thought her dead. Then I felt her
stir and moan.
'‘Hang on! Tidal wave— on the left!'' Roger's cal!
pierced the bedlam. Looking up dully, I saw a gray-
swirling wall of water loom up through the billowing
clouds of steam. Before I could make a move to pro-
tect Willa or myself, the wave rolled over us, flinging
me against the starboard gunwale, and sweeping the
deck like a new broom. There was no searing of scald-
ing water. The wave was ice cold, or seemed so to my
blistered skin. It had swept down on us from the
waters farther south, a current not yet heated ■ by the
cauldron near the rim of the volcano.
A terrific suction of wind bore down on us 'with the
passing of the wave. As a curtain is drawn back by a
swift hand, the air was whipped clear of steam. On the
left, brilliant flashes of fire lighted up the banks of the
extinct craters, whose vast maws gaped like the nadir
of eternity. The shore was lower now than the level
of the sea ; the iipheaved water had risen over the edges
of the craters and was pouring into the bottomless
abysses in torrents like a hundred Niagaras.
Willa's scream of terror pierced the din as I stared in
horror at the cataclysm occurring under my very eyes.
It seemed that we must surely be swept down that
mighty slope of sea water that was emptying into the
bowels of the earth. But the raft was caught in the
grip of a powerful current that was drawing us away
from the brink of the vast waterfalls. We were headed
north, the volcano gradually receding in the south-
west.
Then the whirling air currents drove the steam back
over us and once more we were blinded to the terrible
destruction going on around us.
I thought we never would get another breath of fresh
air. The hissing, frying sea seemed rising to choke off
the last gasp of life. Consciousness became dim and
delirious. Far away I thought I heard the roar of dino-
saurs and under the side of the raft a viscous bulk
reared up momentarily as a dead sea monster collided
with it, to be swept away on the next instant into the
whorls of a vast vortex of brine. Once the glassy eyes
of an amphib glared up at me out of the hell-broth,
and was gone again in a rush of white scalding foam.
Again the banks of steam were whipped away briefly.
We saw ahead the honeycombed walls at the northern
end of the sea. We were drifting into the caverns that
led to the underground river. On the right were the
passages that led to the subterranean canyon, and be-
yond them the craters into which the sea was emptying
itself.
Frantic in our fear of being swept into those caverns
leading to the underground canyon, where we would
be plunged to certain death on the flooding tides of
sea water, we seized the oars and struggled to steer the
raft. But our efforts were of no avail. The mill-race
of raging brine was carrying us whither it willed. Otir
fate was in the hands of Providence.
Nearer and nearer we came to the frowning wall.
The sea had risen many inches, pouring into the caverns
in ashy torrents, half -filling the passages leading to
the underground river. For a moment I feared we
would be flung against the rocks between the cavern
mouths ; then I saw that the currents were sweeping the
raft and incalculable masses of debris straight into a
yawning fumarole. Again luck was with us, for I
recognized the passage as one we had explored,* and
which led under the wall of the cave- world to the chan-
nel of the underground river.
The raft lurched heavily, grating on a submerged
rock. It veered mddely and shot on, broadside. Slowly
the Rambler straightened out in a path of leaping foam.
I felt a draft of cooler air as the vault of the fumarole
closed over us and darkness enveloped us like a cloud
of lamp-black. Far behind the crash of falling walls
and vomiting lava was muffled to a low, turgescent
rumble.
CHAPTER XVI
S LOWLY our senses cleared as the thunders of the
erupting volcano and the falling walls of the
cave-world were lost in the low, muttering wash
of water against the invisible walls of the cavern. In a
long, dizzy curve the flooding sea water swung us into
the underground river channel, which we identified by
dipping our fingers over the rail and touching the water
to our tongues. Hope rose stronger as we realized that
our chances of escaping alive had doubled with the pass-
ing of the greatest menace. Somewhere ahead, the
underground stream, swollen to a raging torrent by the
upheaved sea, might bear us to a surface outlet, or into
some unknown gallery of caves that would lead to
safety.
‘‘Bob ! Willa It was Roger Anson's hoarse voice
calling out from the darkness that pressed upon us from
all sides.
“I'm all right/' came Willa's faint response, and I
also made known that life still was in me, though at
very low ebb.
We crept nearer together, gaining courage from the
contact of our bodies, as we gathered around the Ramb-
ler's mast, shrinking as far as possible from the dark
waters that gurgled and foamed around the battered
hulk that remained of the raft.
Time after time the Rambler ground against the
dripping wails of the subterranean channel, backing
away, spinning slowly and speeding on again into the
endless stretches of darkness. Cooler and cooler be-
came air and water. The salty tang disappeared entirely
THE TOMB OF TIME
1095
from the river as we floated farther from the disinteg-
rating cave- world. The silence, the fresh air, the steady
onrush of the black water, that bore us to doom or to
salvation, was like heaven after the hurricane of lava
and thundering sea. Dimly I wondered what had be-
come of the amphibs and the monsters of the inland
deep. Had they all been destro3^ed? Was the sunken
sea vanishing into the vast crater maws into which it
had been pouring when we drifted into the passage to
the underground river? And were the seismographs of
the far away upper world recording the upheaval that
had spat us from the mouth of hell?
On and on we floated into fathomless gloom. The
current gradually slow^ed doivn, though still swift and
strong. There was less danger from the collisions we
had with invisible obstructions. Yet still we did not
know what moment we might plunge into a chasm in
the river channel. Mystery was before us, yet certain
death lay behind, and we were glad to take our chances
on the unknown.
It <was during the iinreckonable hours of that fearful
i^oyage on the underground river w’-hen I told Willa
all that I had hitherto so manfully suppressed. Deliri-
ously happy, I learned that she returned my love. All
three of us came near weeping together, for it was
like a death-bed confession, with Roger Anson the
priest of the sacrament. Solemnly we vowed that if
ever we reached the upper w^orld alive nothing material
should ever come between us. After the dangers ive
had braved together, my former reticence owing to the
Anson wealth seemed foolish indeed.
We had given up completely to the whims of fate,
and were dozing fitfully on the slippery deck of the
raft when Roger sighted a twinkle of light ahead. His
cry of joy brought us to hands and knees, scarcely able
to believe what our vision registered. A grayish glow
was spreading rapidly around us, mysterious, divinely
beautiful to our light- famished souls. The vault of
the river channel showed dimly overhead, the surface
of the. stream gleaming like a mirror of jade.
Feebly we rose to our knees, as we heard the low
roar of water rushing over rocks. The light increased
to dim sun light. We smelled the odors of smi-dried
algae, the faint tang of pines. Wider and wider stretched
the underground river as we neared the source of the
sunlight, the vault dropping so low it almost scraped
our mast. ^
Then we knew what we were approaching. It was
the bottom of a deep canyon, one of the countless
gorges of the Grand River system.
Torn, bedraggled, staring up at the light with pale,
drawn faces, we floated into a narrow, deep stream,
whose vault was no gloomy stratum of granite, but a
strip of -sunlit sky, edged by serrated crags and ledges.
Daylight !
Down a steep, long rapids we plunged, oars in hand,
frantically fending the craft off the rocks with the last
ounce of strength in us. It seemed that the swift cur-
rent would never end. But at last the canyon walls re-
ceded, and "we sighted still water near a wide, low sand-
bar. In a last desperate struggle we brought the raft
aground and staggered out upon the sun-warmed sand,
sinking down in a state of utter exhaustion.
How long we lay there I do not recall, but at length
we recovered sufficiently to take account of ourselves.
Aside from a few bruises and slight burns we were
whole and sound. But we had nothing left but life and
limb. Every bit of dunnage had been swept from the
raft— camera, searchlights, rifles, shovels, ropes—even
the sail was gone and a part of the ropes that had stayed
the mast. All we had was the rags on our backs and the
pistols at our belts.
A few minutes later we climbed out of the canyon
into a wild mountain district altogether unfamiliar to
us. All the rest of that day we hiked and climbed,
searching for a landmark that would give us our bear-
ings. But by nightfall, miles from the canyon from
which we had emerged, we still were lost, and we slept
in a high ravine on empty stomachs.
Late the next day we sighted a landmark on the
trail to Comanche Cave. By that time we had lost all
memory of the location of the canyon into which the
underground stream had drifted us. Nor did we care
at the time whether we ever remembered the past, If
we could but soothe our eyes with a glimpse of mafi»
kind and of a city street.
Ragged, half -starved, our shoes worn off our feet,
we stumbled into Antlers in a state of collapse. An
ovation greeted us, for Pete had reported us missing
a few days before, and an expedition was being or-
ganized to search for us. Needless to say we were
silent concerning the details of what we had found in
the depths of Comanche Cave. Without the camera
and film packs, we had nothing to prove our story,
which was far too wild to be substantiated merely by
our testimony.
We returned to Denver resolved to say nothing of
the real nature of the sunken world. And the story
we told to friends and press was far from the v/hole
truth, though it was accepted as such.
Someday we may return to Comanche Cave and try
to bring back evidence of the wonders to be found
under the mountains, or to ascertain that the cave-world
was destroyed by the eruption. But somehow we are
quite willing to procrastinate. As for Willa and me,
v/e are hugely satisfied with the adventures to be found
ill the upper world, and even the adventurous Roger,
now my refractory father-in-law, never presses us to
attempt reentering the horrors of the inland deep.
With the exception of one curious fact, w^e would
be inclined to disbelieve our own memories as to
the adventure. But that fact cannot be refuted. It is
that by cautious inquiries, we found out that during the
very period of our terrible voyage out of the inland
deep, the seismographs all over the world registered dis-
tinct earth tremors, which were traced by seismologists
to the locality of Middle Park in the Rocky Mountains.
Was the sunken sea emptied into the mouths of the
extinct craters after the upheaval of the cave-world?
Was the vast cavity with its strange, moving lights and
prehistoric monsters filled with erupting lava? Were
the cunning amphibs, those missing links of man's
evolutionary tree, buried alive by their efforts to destroy
us in the ancient tomb of time?
The answers to these questions I must leave for the
future— if, indeed, they ever are answered. Meanwhile
the love that \¥illa Anson and I found in the deeps
of Comanche Cave must supplant the loss to science
of a marvelous discovery and the thwarting of my am-
bitions as a revolutionary geologist.
The Enb
Ao Interesting New Serial in 2 Parts
|y w U' i ^ %yi/ .,-'L .-y ^ #' C#
(?/ Space
By John W. Campbell, Jr.
Author of ^Anvaders from the Infinite/^ ^Aslands of Spacef^ ^^The Black Star Passes/^ etc.
E are ahv-ays glad to have the publishing of a story by this author and
we believe that our readers will thoroughly enjoy this first instalment
telling of the work of a great inventor with a promise of interplanetary or even-
space travel in Part Two.
Illustrated by MOREY
r:%; QLD 'cF there for a while, Tom. I want to evacuated tubes were very valuable. Opened, then sealed
get three more electroscopes and a record- while in empty space, they were the only EMPTY tubes
■ ing bolometer. The thermopile doesn't on earth. It spoke of the importance of this experiment
.... . .Jw record, you know. The recording electro- that the University had permitted this tube to be used.
scope will give us a photographic record— Blamen's gaze shifted back to the mushroom tower,
but no , immediate information as the experiment pro- dowm its insulated base to the powerful electric motor
grasses/^ called Dr. Randolph Warren. He swung him- which drove a white ribbon of silk. The ribbon of silk
seif to the three-inch thick fused quartz tube, wrapped brushed against a bit of CHARGITE, a specially de-
his hands around its milky column, and slid down the signed compound which gave the silk a charge of elec-
shaft forty feet to the ground below, A whining hum tricity. The endless belt whisked the charge up to the
of electric motors and the slap-slap-slap of the silk rib- sphere above, where points collected it and carried it
bons mounting to the huge aluminum sphere above, away to the sphere. Like an endless-chain bucket con-
drowned out the call of Tom Blamen, inside the sphere, veyor the silk ribbon was bringing electric charges up,
Tom wanted to know if he might try the thing on low as a similar ribbon carried equal— but opposite charges
voltage once. Tom didn't get an answer, but he looked to the control sphere where he sat.
at the meters, and saw a needle quivering at the point Tom Blamen was in a whirl of hesitancy and doubt,
marked ‘'17'' on the master meter. He looked nervously about. He could discharge the
'T7,000,000~and 111 have to discharge somehow be- spheres in a bolt of lightning to the heavy metal con-
fore he can place the ladder to climb back. It's a shame ductors thirty-five feet away by simply running out the
to waste all that— ' He looked out of his observation discharge-arms. But it seemed a waste of energy—
windowq a conducting window made of two sheets of Ran Warren was back— he stood in the door looking
plate glass separated by a layer of dilute sulphuric acid, up at the man in the window of the sphere.
Set in the aluminum sphere it maintained the conduc- "^Sliall I discharge through the tube?" asked Blamen,
tivity of the metal across the gap. eagerly.
Twenty-five feet away a weird mtisliroom rose from Warren didn't hear, but as anyone might, nodded is
the concrete floor of the concrete laboratory. Set on a annoyance,. 'YTs— discharge to towers— send down the
tripod of carefully designed insulators, the half-sphere ladder, of course.”
.seemed some strange growth. The polished aluminum Blamen accepted it as authority to do what he wanted,
with its discharge points pitted and scarred by the lash- He gave a glance at the dials— 17.6 million volts now—
ing force of terrific discharges was joined to the sphere He stopped the motors, and the bands slowed with a
by a clear tube of fused quartz. This seemed swollen doleful slap-slap-slap. He threw another switch, and
half-way between, and the tliree-incli tube opened to the three enormous magnets surged with terrific, hitherto
the size of a foot-balk Around this swelling, held in unused, power, a magnetic field of compressive force,
position by strings of insulators depending from the three tremendous magnetic fields opposing each other,
ceiling twenty feet above, were three tremendous mag- and pressing down simultaneously on that little inner
nets. The swelling in the tube contained a smaller globe tube. The fine iron filament-wire trembled. Siiddeniy
or sphere and in this was a filament of iron wire. The it burst into blazing, explosive incandescence as a tre-
inner tube was very highly evacuated, one of the dozen mendous current rushed through it— and. simultaneously
tubes Sanderson brought back with him from his voyage the terrific, stored energy at 17.6 million volts smashed
to space beyond the earth's atmosphere in fact. In 1952 through the iron vapor in the little tube. Seventeen and
there had been a dozen tubes, iiow in 1955, only three six tenth miliions of volts leaping across a gap of eight
years later, but four remaiiied, so those absolutely inches 1
1096
The milky cylinder began to contract,
and as it grew smaller the men within
it felt a.n awful cold come tip on them.
Their breath began to show and their ears
grew nu-mb. Swiftly the cylinder became
smaller and rapidly it grew colder.
1098
AMAZING STOKIES
Warren leaped forward in amazed surprise.
you fool— don’t— ' He stopped^ and froze as a terrible
cry came to his ears.
In the tube a light had formed. The discharge was
all over — should have been. But in the tube was a
virulent thing that glowed some indescribable color, a
violet so tremendously deep that it seemed a red-black.
A wave of energy struck Warren, that made him throw
a protective hand across his eyes, and stagger back from
that room of incandescence, back, and out to the corridor
beyond. His eyes were in torture, his whole body felt
crisp and dry. Still that terrific light was glowing
around the corner of the door, beating out at him, and
still the feeling of heat and some terrible, impact of
energy parched his body. There were faint mutterings,
shakings and quivers in the building now, the light from
within was growing stronger. Suddenly there was a
terrific explosion. The light grew bluer, and more bril-
liant, it seemed to increase rapidly, and the man stag-
gered under a wave of beating, destroying energy, in-
visible, but terribly tangible.
Then in an instant it was over, and only a heaving and
restless movement of the building remained. Warren
slumped to the floor as cries of panic echoed from other
parts of the Heavy Apparatus Laboratories.
A crowd of men was collected about him, a doctor
bending over him and two stretcher bearers nearby, when
he regained consciousness. He groaned in agony as he
woke. His whole body was stiff and sore. He could
feel a terrific coat of sunburn over all its surface except
where something as thick as his belt or shoes had pro-
tected him.
^^Burn— radiation burn of some kind. Take him to
the infirmary and coat him with 732-aE. It’s serious.
How’s the other man ?”
''Dead— very. Burned raw, and looks as though he
might have been electrocuted first. We’d better clear
out, the wall is cracked badly.”
''Wh— what happened?” asked Warren blankly and
inanely.
'Tf you don’t know, nobody can tell you, Warren,”
replied Jordan of Chemical Processes, who stood beside
him now. "You started an earthquake though that
darned near knocked the building down. We all left,
then discovered you two hadn’t, and came back. You
were lying here, and Blamen — he’s gone, Ran,” he con-
cluded gravely.
"Blamen— started the tube— something happened. I
called him and told him to discharge to the towers— to
the ground — ^but he discharged through the tube. Is the
apparatus all right?” Warren asked anxiously.
"The Sanderson Tube is gone— everything else O. K.”
Warren groaned, "Oh Lord, I could replace any-
thing but that !”
The stretcher bearers were carrying him away before
he got a chance to say any more, and the pain of the
burns came back. He groaned softly. "The Sanderson
tube !”
^ ^ ^ ^ ^
"And so, Putt-putt, I’ve come to you as usual. It was
a wild yarn I told, and I was dismissed with regrets, but
my illness, lasting more than three months, made it im-
perative for them to have some man to take my place
in the meantime — and somebody said something about
a Sanderson tube and somebody else mentioned 175, (X)0
dollars damages to buildings
"And now I’ve told you how I left the Unuiversity.”
Donald Murray Putney, sometimes referred to by
Warren at "Putt -putt”— and filthily rich—” inventor
of the gasoline turbine, which had promptly wrecked
several hundred promising gasoline engine companies,
till they bought his patents, and supplied Warren with
material for endless annoyance, was not satisfied that
he heard the whole story.
"Yes, how— but not, why. What was the wild tale?”
he demanded. Putney knew Warren was not addicted
to wild tales, especially if they might be interpreted as
excuses for himself.
"Well — I suggested that the action, which I saw, must
be due to some hitherto unknown force. Certainly,
Don,” he went on, warming up to his subject, "there
wasn’t enough energy in my apparatus, taking the total
energy stored on the two spheres, the field energy of the
three magnets, and the potential energy, too, for that
matter— they fell down you know— to start an earth-
quake. Also, a discharge, even of 17.6 million volts —
all the instruments jammed— wouldn’t give me a case of
sun, or radiation burn that would lay me up in the in-
firmary for three straight months. Anyway- — I had dif-
ferent aims.” He quieted suddenly as he .remembered
he was started again, and the last reception of his theory
had made it a painful discussion for him.
"What were the aims?”
"Energy of matter,” replied Warren grimly.
Putney was silent for some moments, puffing his pipe
leisurely as he leaned back in his chair. The furnishings
of his bachelor apartment were dedicated to the Goddess
of Comfort.
"Hmmm— that would cause an earthquake. In fact it
might well cause several dozen earth-quakes. It would
certainly cause an earthquake on Wall Street.
"By the way, who led the laughter in the Directors
Meeting ?”
"Old Nestor,” replied Warren guardedly, "And it
surprised me a lot. Naturally I would be surprised any-
way, but old Nestor is no dumb business man. He got
on that faculty for more reasons than one.”
"Yes,” agreed Putney, "he did.” Putney smiled
sourly. "That old boy is a live man, and alive to the
opportunities too. He bought in there, because he can
get information cheap and wholesale. That’s why Nes-
tor Aircraft is a strong investment. And does Nestor
love me—? He does — like a shark would. I nearly
wrecked him with that little patent of mine, and he hasn’t
gotten over it yet. What did he say?”
"He started them off, perhaps. I didn’t expect him to
say 'Impossible’ but he was the first.”
"Oh — did he?” Putney smiled to himself. "And has
he spoken to you since? Warren, I learned when I
had patents to sell — and you know I’ve sold a lot more
since that turbine affair — that Nestor has ideas of his
own on business manners. Who gets the rights on the
discovery if you remain with the University?”
"Why — ^they would!” exclaimed Warren.
"Uhuh — open to everybody to use. No money in that.
Well, you’re kicked out. If your ideas are correct, who
gets the rights now ?”
-I would—”
"And that’s where you’re wrong. Would you ? How
could you get them— how could you prove it— how could
you build the apparatus — ?” Putney leaned forward
with blazing black eyes. "You know you couldn’t— not
till Nestor furnished your laboratory, and he’d run off
with the patents, and you’d get a salary. You’re black-
BEYOND THE END OF SPACE
1099
listed with Universities now^ and you know it. So does
he. He saw that you had millions— billions perhaps, in
the palm of your hand. So he fired you. In a day hell
offer you a laboratory job, and set you on that again, and
hell get the money
Warren gazed at his friend in amazement. '‘You're
right, Putt-putt. You're damn right. Only I’m going
to ask you into a partnership with me. You've got the
money, and Fve got an idea, that is apparently worth
Nestor's time!"
Putney stood up and stretched forth his hand* ‘‘And
voe^ve got a partnership, Ran, that nothinll bust !"
CHAPTER II
^ ^ R. NESTOR will see you now, sir," the secre-
J tary said. She smiled pleasantly at the tall,
X f powerfully built, grey-eyed man. She began
to wonder, as she noticed the expression about his eyes
and mouth, just how successful Mr, Nestor would be in
this interview. Mr. Nestor was usually successful in
liis interview, but there were little humorous crinkles
around the big man's eyes, and graven lines of power
and intelligence. But the jaw was powerful, the clean,
square-cut lines of the face and the set of the head on
broad powerful shoulders indicated determination. Most
indicative of all, the lips were tight-pressed and they
looked unpleasant. She mentally shrugged her shoul-
ders, very pretty shoulders she knew they were too, and
stood aside for him to pass.
"Ah, Dr. Warren, I’m glad to see you again," said
the shrewd old man. The mechanical smile was in-
tended to be winning. Ran Warren didn't like it. He
didn't like Nestor for that matter, for it was Nestor, in
his younger days, who had changed his career. Pressure
here, influence there— and his father began to yield, for
he had never had the determination and the power of
will of his mother. Then— five big men, and one man,
who was going to be big, jumped on him, and his hold-
ings began to slide rapidly. But it made Nestor.
"What was it you wanted to see me about, sir ?" asked
Warren, attempting to come to the point.
"I have been wondering since I spoke so hurriedly in
the Advisory Meeting, whether that idea of yours might
not have been right. It really does seem strange to me
that so serious a result could have followed a mere dis-
charge in a tube. What do you believe caused the earth-
quake?" The keen, black eyes twinkled up at him like
the eyes of a bird.
"Radiations, sir. I am certain no such power as would
move the earth’s crust was ever developed in those little
electric motors that accumulated the discharge. I believe
that that discharge started a release of the energy of
matter, that the radiations were very largely of an ex-
tremely short wave-length, and that they penetrated the
building readily. Certainly you know that all the photo-
graphic material in the laboratory was ruined, and some
was at a considerable distance, behind walls. Suppose
the radiations penetrated through the ground, and into
the layers below. Eventually they would be absorbed.
At whatever point they were absorbed, we would know
there was water, for the laboratory was on made land.
That water, converted to steam, would certainly have
some such result. The radiations were so powerful in
all probability that they passed through me, and the other
humans without hindrance, and hence without result."
Nestor's eyes were bright. There was a calculating
gleam behind them. "That's an interesting theory, and
quite possible— if you really did succeed in smashing
the atom."
"But I didn't. ^ I destroyed it. It wasn't merely
broken, it was annihilated, I believe."
"Matter cannot be destroyed, I thought?" said Nestor
sharply.
"Apparently the others agreed with you. Were you
going to reinstate me at the University ?"
"Fm afraid that can't be done, Dr. Warren, But I
was interested enough to ask you if you would like a job
with my research staff. You could continue your ex-
periments if you wished. I can offer you fifteen thou-
sand a year."
A slow smile dawned on Warren's lips. "Fm afraid
you are mistaken, Nestor. If you investigate the State
files, you'll find there's a new firm- — Putney and Warren,
Research Engineers. I think you'll have to get someone
else, so ril say— goodbye."
Warren turned and strode out. Mr. Thaddeus Eus-
'tace Nestor looked after him with amazement. "What
■ — hey — come back — — " But Warren’ had already left,
Nestor began to curse, then stopped abruptly. His
plans had gone badly awry. He had intended to snap up
Warren before anyone else could, and as Putney had
suggested, get the benefit of this inconceivably important
discovery. Now to his horror he discovered that not
only was he unable to get it, but instead of getting it
himself, Warren was to get the benefit. Had he left
Warren in his position at the University he would at
least have had an equal share in the discovery with
all others, but now he certainly would not There was
just one answer.
He pressed a button, and presently the secretary ap-
peared. "Send Mr. Williams over, Miss Oliver." The
secretary retired, and called Mr. Robert Williams, head
of the Nestor Research Laboratories.
Nestor Aircraft was only one of T. E. Nestor's hold-
ings. The man had forward-looking ideas, and he had
long since realized that research would pay an income
as well as any other business, and the Laboratories were
simply his invention factories. They handled all sorts
of problems, and Mr. Williams was the head, and a
physicist.
He appeared in a few minutes, and went into Nestor's
soundproof office. "Well, what is it?"
"I told you Warren was coming? Well; he isn't. I
made a mistake." Williams grinned broadly. The Old
Man had made a mistake, and a bad one evidently. He
didn't look happy, and Williams had been informed that
morning that he was about to be made Assistant Direc-
tor of Research, with Warren as Director. It hadn't
appealed to him.
"A mistake? What was it?" he asked ironically.
"I got that blasted scientist loose from the Univer-
sity so he could come here~and what does he do?
Does he thank me for it and come?— no! He's started
a firm of his own! And Williams, get this; he's dis-
covered how to annihilate matter!"
Williams started and looked at Nestor seriously.
"How do you know?"
"Read about the explosion at the University three
months ago? That was it. A tiny piece of iron wire,
he said!"
"Where do I come in?"
"You’re going to duplicate his apparatus, and better
his record. I've already got track of' a Sunderson tube."
1100
AMAZING STOKIES
“You^re mistaken. Fm going to do notliing* of the
kind. Warren is the greatest atomic man in the worlds
and he always was a fool for luck. Remember the time
C^nstanti tried to. start his racket on the University and
sent a bomb ? It fell beside W arreii^ and turned out
a dud. Well, Fm not superstitious, but if it killed one
man and nearly killed him, then it's bad medicine for
Mrs. Williams' little boy, Bobby.
^What do you know about the power he used, volt-
ages, currents and so forth? Suppose that instead of
the slow release that merely killed one and half killed
another, besides causing an earthquake, we got a rapid
release. Any idea what would happen ? You could blow
this old world clear across the solar system!"
*Wou won’t handle it? Why not try it with just a
little?"
“Little ? ^There ain’t no sich animile’ as the hick said.
If I worked under a microscope I’d still have enough to
blow the whole city off the map ! I know physics plenty
good for my work, but I’m no second Warren. You
know his latest work has been showing Einstein’s mis-
takes. There’s just one other man wLo might do it,
and that’s Jimmy AtkilL"
“Atkill" — ^he’s a disreputable crook. They won’t even
publish his papers any more."
“Sure he’s a crook— but they never proved he killed
the old bird. He had some kind of a death ray, and
they never proved he used it. Try and convince a jury
of twelve good men and dumb, that a death ray they
can’t be shown did the job!"
“He’s a crook— but he’s brilliant. Try him."
“All right. If you’re afraid."
Williams grinned. “That’s not a dig. That’s not
fear either, it’s common sense. Want to play with
matches in a dynamite plant? Want to come out and
watch me work on that idea— when a piece, you can’t
see under a microscope, would blow the whole city off
the map?" The Physicist left.
Nestor took out a pocket chess set, and sat playing
chess with various combinations and problems. Then,
after nearly half an hour, he put his little set away and
reached for the telephone.
“Miss Oliver, get the physicist, Dr. Janies Atkill, on
my phone. I don’t know where he is, nor in what city.
Get him." Then he hung up and went back to his
papers. It was nearly an hour before Miss Oliver an-
nounced that Dr. Atkill was on the wire.
“Dr. Atkill speaking; is that Mr. Nestor?"
“Yes. Where are you?”
“Detroit ^
“Be here in an hour and I’ve got a big job for you.
Hop by nearest plane, I’ll give orders to send you right
through. I’m in New York."
“I’ve got a good job here. What have you got, how
long will it last, and how much?" was Dr. Atkill’s re-
sponse.
“Read about the earthquake at the University here
three months ago? That was some of Warren’s work.
Destruction of the indestructible. That’s all I can say
over the telephone. The salary will be agreeable. Will
you come ?"
There was a soft whistle over the wire. “So my old
friend Ran Warren has been shaking down buildings—
and the indestructible has ^ been destroyed. And why
isn’t Warren working on it?"
“Fool! He is. That’s why I said hurry
oesn’t take much apDaratus if he’s working* on it.
He always was poor as the proverbial church mouse,"
chuckled Atkill.
“Doesn’t it? Putney’s bacldiig him. Once and for
all: Are you coming?" demanded Nestor irritably.
“On my way, gran’pa!" Nestor’s face went red at this
rejoinder from Dr. Atkill, and his close-cropped grey
hair seemed to stand up stiffer than usual. He started
to splutter into the microphone, but the instrument was
mockingly dead.
CHAPTER III
W ELL, from the expression on your face, I
should say that my guess as to friend Nestor’s
ideas was right, Ran?" grinned Putney as
Warren came into the laboratory. Half a dozen men of
Putney’s staff were grouped around their chiefs and
smiled at the angry Warren.
“Very," replied Warren with a grimace. “He offered
me fifteen whole thorisands a year— and he knows damn
well that, if my ideas are right, the thing is worth— oh
there isn’t any possible limit to set on it. It’s beyond
value. And the old skunk would keep it tightly wrapped
up in his own private pink ribbon— to be sold only at his
own prices. He’s probably put it just low enough to
wreck the existing power companies, and high enough to
make an ungodly profit."
“What do you think his next move will be?"
“Lord, Putt, I don’t know." Warren looked at his
friend in blank surprise," I hadn’t thought. What will
he do ?’’
“He’ll call in Williams, his chief of laboratories, and
tell him to go ahead on it. And Williams, being an in-
telligent though not highly scrupulous man, will decline
without thanks, explaining to Nestor just why— it won’t
be safe. Nestor will either force him to do it, or
get— — - I think he’ll get Atkill, he’s probably the next
best man."
“He’s the best, the best physicist in the world, and one
of the most interesting men, but has the moral sense of
a feudal baron. T want it. It’s mine’. That’s his one
and only code. Nestor will probably be gypped. It’s a
shame a brilliant man like Atkill can’t behave."
“He’s second best— you’re best and you know it. Now
let’s forget that and see what we want. You have the
notes on your experiment?"
“Why no, they belonged to the University," ex-
claimed Warren.
“Nut! We don’t know whether Nestor’s got ’em or
not. Wilson, you go to the University and try to buy
them; up to a million I’ll pay for them. And the re-
mains of_ the apparatus that was wrecked." Putney
ordered. Wilson nodded, and started off at once. Put-
ney sat in silence for some time.
“I wonder— I -wonder if Nestor might not try to get
in here, and acquire some data?" asked Warren softly.
“May I borrow your men for a wdiile?"
“Go to it. Ran. What’s the idea nowU"
“Watch— and we may show you some new ideas."
The physicist turned to the men around him. “Come
on men, this is going to be war."
The rest of the .staff had gathered, a score of men in
all. To a man they were with Putney, and every one
of that scientific staff were with the great physicist in
his research. To them, the idea of the energy of mat-
ter Vv^as a fire to stimulate them to the utmost.
Outside the laboratory Warren surveyed the grounds
BEYOND THE . END OF SPACE
1101
with an appraising eye. The laboratory building* stood
on a lo\Y liilL Beliind, rose ridge on ridge of the rolling
New Jersey hills. The Kittatiny range off to the North-
west crowned the view with a green-blue ribbon. Below
the large^ concrete building was a series of smaller sheds
and houses. The kitchen and mess-hall were set over
a clear, bubbling spring; a little stream of water trickled
clown from it to the clear lake below.
The hillside itself w^as clear, but covered with out-
cropping rocks. Behind the sheds and the main labora-
tory tall metal towers strode off across the hills to the
super-power transmission line five miles away. A high
metal fence surrounded the entire property.
'^Our first job is to set up a number of burglar alarms,
and a burglar catcher or two. Men, 3^011 all live here
don't you? I have reason to suspect v/e aren't going to
have a happy stay while we are developing this thing,
so we're going to fix it so one can get in or get out again
if they do enter, without our knowing it. Come on!’'
For the rest of that day the men worked, while Wil-
son, with the supply-plane made numerous trips too and
from New York and the surrounding towns, bringing
foods and other supplies. One of the things Putney
ordered was a complete gasoline-driven power plant.
The power line was too accessible, ?vnd since there had
been no reason to believe it would- fail he had never had
an auxiliary plant.
The entire grounds of the laboratory were crossed and
re-crossed with an endless chain of beams of ultra-violet
light, and photoelectric detectors. A capacity bridge was
attached to the metal fence, and several others set up in
the grounds, making it impossible for anyone to approach
them, without giving the alarm. Then the fence was
v/ired, and it w^as possible to turn the current on either
the power line or the power plant into it at any time.
It was flight before they finished, and the hundreds
of invisible beams stretched their fingers about.. The
grounds were equipped with searchlights that would
automatically turn to the section from which any alarm
came, and flood it with light. Three men were sent out
to make an attempt to steal across the grounds, knowing
perfectly the distribution of the beams, and with a care-
ful map of the grounds. It could not be done. The
beams could be avoided only by coming wdthin range of
the capacity bridges, and instantly a blinding glare
flooded them, and the tortured shriek of a siren an-
nounced their failure.
Air attack likewise proved impossible, for again the
capacitances were disturbed. 'T think,” said Warren
with a broad smile,” that we are safe.”
‘^Uhuh— Atkill came to see Nestor to-day,” answered
Putney.
^^Then you were right again. Williams didn't like the
job;”
'"When do you start work?”
"'To-morrow— when Fve had some sleep,” replied
Warren instantly. Let’s turn in.”
After breakfast they settled dowm once more to the
discussion. Wilson was present, Ms combined office of
scientific assistant and stenographer making him useful
Wilson was a small, slightly greyed man, self-effacing
and one of those persons who are merely useful He
had never had an original idea, and probably never
would, but as a scientific .amenuensis, he was invaluable.
""What apparatus are you going to need, Ran?” asked
Putney.- "'Thafs the point to start on.”
"*To begin with, the reinains of my old apparatus, and
a dozen pencils, the iiitegraph, several calculus books,
and some tables of natural and ten-base logs. Also some
reference books on field theories might help. In the
meantime, Pm going to discuss the idea with you. Wil-
son, will you see if you can get those things together?”
'"Yes, Dr. Yfarren. In the study?” At Warrens nod
he set off at once.
“Now, Putt, this is the theory I was working on when
the grand smash came. I firmly believe that it is a law
of nature that matter Cannot he Destroyed. Nothing in
this universe can possibly destroy it!”
Putney stared at him in amazement. “Wha— what
happened then ?”
“Matter was destroyed, and released its energy!”
There was a twinkle in Warren’s eyes as he replied.
“Ail right, I give up. .Whafs the answer?”
“I said, and I believe, that matter can not be destroyed
in this universe. The matter that was destroyed was not
in this universe I That matter was suddenly hurled be-
}mnd the end of space, out of space altogether, beyond
the fourth-dimensional surface of our three dimensions.
This ■ universe is a hollow fourth- dimensional hyper-
sphere, and the universe as we know it is the surface of
that sphere. Well, what happens if it escapes from that
sphere altogether?”
“But— it can’t!” objected Putney.
“But— if it did?” demanded Warren.
“It—it could— “it couldn't exist! Good God man, is
that the secret ! It can't exist, it is automatically thrown
into a condition that prohibits its existence!” Putney’s
incredulous e}’es fixed themselves on Warren.
“Almost, but not quite. That’s true to an extent,
that’s what would happen if I could project it completely
out of ail spaces, but the thing is, that instantly it were
projected out of this universe, it would itself become
the center of a new hyper-spaci. Mass in itself creates
a space about it. Do you see my point ?”
“Right.”
“Then that can't be done. But I can project it into
a space whose laws are such that the matter can't exist.
Arid the point where that other space touches ours, there
the two modify each other, and intereommunkate.
Energy released in one can be tapped from the other. I
threw my energy into the alien space, and it is destroyed
to free energ^c That energy comes back to this space,
and is at once converted to such a form of energy as is
capable of existence in this space. Do you see the oper-
ation ?”
Putney’s face was pale as lie contemplated the titanic
forces that worked on the bit of matter that had been
annihilated in Warren’s apparatus. Space! Space, the
master of Forces and Energies, space, with- its immut-
able and infrangible laws had done Warren’s bidding,
and brought him the prepared result! A bit of matter
tossed to it I A digested and refined bit of energy thrown
back in its stead.
“Right! But, Man, how can the thing be done, why,
doesn’t it slip off 01 itself? How did you know there
would be such a space near— near the surface of our
world, as would do that ?”
“There doesn’t have to be. I mrake that bit of space.
Don’t you see, Putt, it does slip through of itself, tries
to build itself a new space, and perhaps does, but where
the terrific forces Fm sending through with it are,' even
that other space of its creation is so affected as to be
sharply curved. Remember, earth’s gravity is leaking
through too, and so is the intense magnetic and electrical
1102
AMAZING STORIES
force. That maintains the conditions I want — ^or did^
for some lucky reason. I must know exactly what the
forces were. They told me that when Blamen was hit^
every meter froze^ the pivots melted, the works were
blown out by something. Even the great magnets I used
were melted after a time. The increase in the power
of the magnets must have been the reason for the rapid
increase in the intensity of the radiation that I had a
chance to notice.
any rate, Fm going to work on them now, and I
think I'd better learn something. I had the world's
luckiest break really. You know I was trying to dis-
turb space, I thought I might succeed in transmuting
that iron wire. I never expected to annihilate it. If it
had gone up all at once— you would probably have been
annihilated as well. Did you stop to think that if I had
started the experiment, as I intended, I would have been
killed instead of Blamen— or rather with him? I never
could blame the old boy too much
Warren went to the study with Putney, and together
they started the work on the field strengths and data they
had, the effects they knew or imagined or had learned,
and tried to make sense. Little by little the chips of
darkness fell from the truth, and they began to perceive
the facts.
CHAPTER IV
S OMEBODY told meV said Dr. James Atkill,
^hhat you were clever, Nestor. That somebody
was all wet, as the saying went. You ought to
judge men better. You might have known that Warren
never would fall for that play of yours, not while he
had a friend like Putney to go to.
^'Then, not content with tliat, you let him walk the
apparatus right out from under your nose. My Lord,
I didn't think they made 'em so dumb. Now, he's got
all -the data and all the notes and all his own memories.
Were there any pictures of the apparatus?"
“Yes," snapped Nestor angrily, “and I have all of
them." This tall, lean physicist with his disconcertingly
keen grey eyes and the easy air of mockery, a subtle
feeling that he was laughing at you even though his face
was serious, rattled the shrewd old man.
“Well, that'li do some good. Did you get any of the
apparatus-mechanics who set up his stuff ? Those mechs,
will know something about it." He ruffled his wmj
blond hair thoughtfully.
“No, I haven't gotten them, but—"
“But your laboratory staff needs an increase," inter-
rupted AtkilL “Get 'em."
“All right, rii send for them now." The financier
pushed a button, and told Miss Oliver of the increase in
the laboratory staff. Half an hour later she told him
the men had agreed.
“Now," went on Atkill, “just what happened?"
“Well — nobody really knows, you see — — •"
“I see— I see that everyone but Warren was out of
the way, and so he is the one man on earth who saw it
done. My dear employer, could you think of any way
to mess things up any more? I'm the best physicist in
the world, but when you start me off with a handicap
like that, I haven't a very good chance. The one living
man who saw it, the man who made the apparatus, and
the man who has the instruments that record the ex-
periment-all the one man, and one of the brightest
little boys loose. Now what miracle is it you want?"
“Could I help it? It wouldn't have done me— that is
us— any good if he had stayed with the University
would it?"
“No, but if you'd had the brains God gave little red
ants, you could have gotten something for yourself by
offering him a real reward. But when you turned him
loose on the world—"
“But let's stop this and see what we know. He had
some of the high-tension generators such as they were
using at M J.T. back in '30, larger of course, and better,
but the same idea. This — — he stared at the photo-
graph Nestor had tossed him, “is evidently a quartz tube,
with the electrodes in it. How'd he turn the voltage into
them— it takes a tricky switch to handle 25,000,000
volts ?"
“I don't know, that's something you'll have to figure
out. He was going to patent that," said Nestor.
“That's ail right then, he'll have given the data to the
University. He invented and perfected it while he was
with them, and he'll be fool enough to turn it over even
though you did discharge him.
“Then the Sanderson tube apparently— ah here it is.
Between the big magnets. Anything special about them
— ^110 I guess not. Just miusually powerful.
“Lord— Nestor, get on that phone quick, and corner
every existing Sanderson tube. If he needs them, he'll
be held up forever, if we have all the tubes going!"
“That's an idea— that's helpful!" Nestor turned to the
telephone, and in five minutes had the laboratory corner-
ing the only other perfect vacuum on Earth. There was
a ship preparing to leave for the Moon with a large ex-
pedition, but it would be a year or more before they'd
be back, and by that time the battle would have been
won— or lost. Their tubes wouldn't help Warren any.
“Why did he need one?" asked Nestor.
“Matter you imbecile— destruction of matter. He
can't start that in the midst of matter and not have it
blow up everything within miles of the place. He has
to have a perfect absence of matter."
“Somebody told me that he had an iron wire in there,"
objected Nestor.
“Certainly, I know it. There were twelve tubes, one
had a platinum wire, one had iron, one had gold, and
so on. And they all had platinum electrodes. But the
question is did he use that iron wire? Or was it just
there? I think he used it because of the magnets— and
there isn't another tube with iron in existence — -damn!"
The physicist looked at the picture thoughtfully and
ruffled his hair. “Well, he can't get it either. But he
may not need it now."
“I— eh— wonder if wt couldn't— eh-buy the data and
instruments from— somebody ?" suggested Nestor ner-
vously.
“Yes, I thought of stealing them too," returned Atkill
frankly. “It would be much easier to say what you
mean." He smiled pleasantly at the sharp- faced old
man. “But I don't think it will be easy. Putney's no
fool, and neither is my revered colleague, Warren. I'll
bet they have so many ultra-violet beam thief -detectors
around there that you can't wiggle an eye-brow without
starting a siren. We'll find out. His men all live there,
so we can't get at them to give us a few hints/'
“I believe a man named Wilson comes to town occa-
sionally for supplies. He has one of our transport
planes.”
“We might try him. I don't know him, what's he
like ?"
BEYOND THE END OF SPACE
1103
about slightly grey, rather stoop-shoul-
dered, and always looks disappointed,'' replied Nestor
thoughtfully.
''Thumb-nail directory. Excellent, he won't be dis-
appointed longer. I'll see him. In the meantime —
He was out of the office before Nestor could say any-
thing further. Nestor wanted him to sign a contract.
He hadn't had a chance to talk to him, about that. But
neither was Atkill satisfied, and he was back as suddenly
as he had left.
^'By the way, I want one hundred thousand win or
loose, and ten million dollars down if I succeed before
Warren," he announced.
^What! Ten Millions! Get out! You won't have a
sniff!" Nestor cried. He meant to roar it, but his voice
was too high-pitched to roar effectively.
"*And whom will you get instead ?" asked Atkill, smil-
ing pleasantly," and likewise what will I do with the in-
formation 1 already have?"
“Nothing!" snapped Nestor.
“Plenty," replied Atkill gently. “I'll sign a contract
with you at that figure.
Half an hour later he did, and ivent off to talk with
the apparatus mechanics from the University who had
arrived in the meantime. He started them at once build-
ing a static generator of the necessary powder. Then he
took the nearest moving platform, and headed East
across the city. Twenty minutes later he was inquiring
among the speakeasies selling the illegal 10% drinks.
He had several that were considerably over that figure,
met several old acquaintances, and finally found the man
he wanted.
Joe Keller was not a prepossessing figure. He was
small, about five-feet-three in height, and weighed less
than 130 pounds. His eyes were very black, and never
rested long, on the same point, his black hair was con-
stantly falling over his eyes in unruly tangled strands.
A stubble of two-clay beard covered his cheeks and Ms
thin, weak jaw. His clothes had fitted perfectly, but
they were mussed and wrinkled now.
“ 'Lo, Atty. Whatcha wan' ?" Keller's lips were per-
manently glued together, and seemed never to move,
only the cigarette, at one corner of his thin, straight
mouth, bobbed slightly, and the trails of smoke waved
about in the heavy air of the cheap rented room.
“Little job, Joe. What brings you to this hovel?"
“Sompin' new in the worF," announced the little man
looking with disgust at his surroundings. “I used rub-
ber gloves on a vault, and they hadda thing what ate holes
in the rubber. Lef muh fingers all over the place, an'
didn't know it till I took the gloves off. Too damn late
then. They're lookin'. I can't do nothin' now."
“No, but your enforced seclusion doesn't prevent your
comrades from doing something does it? Why not let
them go out, say to the Putney laboratories, and I think
they'll find some things there I want. I might pay as
much as fifteen grand for them."
Keller sat up with a start. “What things?"
Minutely Atkill described the instruments, and the
notes that he wanted. He said they would probably be
in some sort of safe, but that might be overcome. A
little XY-321 would help too, he intimated, and could be
-obtained from him. The XY would put anyone in the
laboratory building to sleep for three hours, unless he
had a special mask, or unless the windows were open.
XY required a high concentration but was fairly effec-
tive then. Inside a house it was perfect.
“Gotcha. Come 'round tomorra," said Joe Keller.
Atkill pursued his way to the West, and then back
to the Nestor offices.
CHAPTER V
I N the big, bare, concrete room a score of men were
working at a peculiar apparatus that rose rai^dly
from the floor. There were two towers capped by
great aluminum spheres. Their stilt-like legs were made
of fused quartz, and electric motel's were being in-
stalled at the base of the towers.
In another room, two men were working alone. War-
ren and Putney, fighting calculations that staggered their
abilities, and ideas that staggered their imaginations.
‘T think," said Warren, his eyes shining as he stared
hard at the latest result, “we aren't going to need a San-
derson tube at all this time. According to that all I need
do is vary the U factor in 254 here slowly, and I won't
need a very high vacuum. Shall we try it ?"
“We won't try it any other way," Putney reminded
him sourly. “Nestor beat us to it on the Sanderson
tubes, as you know."
Warren laughed happily. Stung! We didn't need
'em. But we do need those static generators there. We
can control the thing now, we know how it can be con-
trolled, and we can draw power from that energy center
in the form we want here once it's started, and after that
we'll never need to worry! Except to find other facts
about it's properties.
'^Lord! Putney— -these sheets— they hold the secret
of the energy man has sought since the atom ■ was dis-
covered ! Before us lie the equations that are the key
to the infinite energy, the energy that will banish work
from earth! And banish distance too! I'm sure this
field here represents the annihilation of the gravity-
curvature in space!" he exclaimed, pointing to a brief
expression that represented in fact the second great
secret.
“But, Putt, these others, these things that suddenly
become irreducible and immutable, these end-equations
when we attack one set of unknowns with given values.
Some I recognize; here's the Planck formula, derived
from space-curvatures ! Here's magnetic forces, here
electrostatic fields — but man, what is this one? It’s like
nothing I know, and these others — here's a formula for
creating vibrational fields in space with any period of
vibration .up to the limiting period of Millikan rays
Can we try these ?"
“We can try them — with an automatic machine,"
plied Putney, “when the machine is a hundred million
miles from earth."
“I think that'd be the best idea. Well, it's dark now,,
and time for us to stop."
They went at last for supper, and then after a brief
talk on ways and means of using any power, they turned
in.
It was well into the night when Warren leaped out of
bed with a cry of surprise and pain. Something had
stung him, and for a moment he did not know what it
was. A similar muffled cry came through the wall from
Putney's room an instant later, and Warren, now wide
awake, smiled. The thick walls stopped most of the
sound, but he could guess what Putney was doing. The
capacitance alarm signal had warned them that some one
was approaching the fence, and brought them out of bed
with a jump.
1104
AMAZING
As the mild sliockiiif4 czizreiit Trakeiied them, Ae
room lights \¥€re turned on aiitomaticalijo
"Putt““how many are there?” asked Vharien as he
came into Putney's roonia There was a small television
set here, and the screen was glowing brightly, but a
peculiar colorless and misty scene was represented^ The
screen m^as portraying the section of the fence that had
been affected. Some one was attempting to approach
unseen. It seemed ridiculous to see the man crouching
here and there, and peering over stones and skulking in
non-existent shadows. Powerful lights were flooding
the grounds with ^brilManf ultra-violet beams. They
were so short as to be beyond vision, but so long as to
have very slight flourescent effects, and the three men
were utterly ignorant of the blazing lights I
‘^Shall we let them in?” asked Putney.
■ AVhy not ?” asked W arren with a laugh. _ ''Tlieyhe
trying the gate!”
Putney had ^ pushed the secondary alarm that brought
the men to his room, and they were appearing now with
pistols and rifles, clad in pajamas or hastily donned
trousers.
‘T¥eTe letting 'em into the grounds,” explained Puri
ney as the men stared at the screen. ^‘Tlieyll lilt one
of the ultra beams sure, and start a siren howling. If
they don't run for it then, especially when the visible
light strikes them, I miss my guess.”
^‘Tliey're through,” whispered some one.
*^They cut the lock out with an atomic hydrogen
flame.”
The three separated. One stayed at the gate, holding
it open against the spring that tended to dose it, a re^
volver in one hand. The other two started softly for the
house.
‘^Tlieyll hit the arbor-hangar beam,” estimated Ken-
net, the laboratory electrical apparatus specialist.
^‘Tlie stone-pile inductance will spot them first,” con-
tended Wheeler, chief chemist.
The argument v/as interrupted by a sudden loud click-
ing from the master boards behind the screen. Suddenly
a brilliant white pencil appeared on the screen spotting
the two inen and simultaneously a horrific waii shrieked
from a huge siren. The three men froze instantaneously,
then the two turned and beat a liastv retreat.
a/
Putney had adjusted something before Mm. Now lie
threw a switch. The man at the gate gave a cry of pain
and bounded back from the fence. The released gate
suddenly swung to with a clang. It could not lock, how-
ever* The two running men hit the fence about the same
time, and they too bounced back with a cry of pain* The
fence w^as charged.
Putney threw a second switch with a grin, then a
third. As he threw the second, the fence suddenly began
to spit long streamers of flame, and miniature lightning
bolts readied out, lapping at the ground and streaming
Lip to the heavens.
The last switch had connected a microphone, and now
as the wail of the siren died protestingly into silence, a
monstrous voice issued from speakers on the laborator} .
would advise you to refrain from assaulting the
fence* It might bear iinhappy consequences* ^la} I
invite you gentlemen into the laooratory? Iz you will
go to the spot of light thrown by the searchlight, you will
be directed ' along the path.”
The men walked sullenly to the light. Three tm-
bappy, shabby looking specimens of liumaiiity they were.
Presently they ivere instructed to lav down their
STOaiES
v'eapons, and proceed to the house vvitliouc armaments,
”The reception coiiimittee decided to meet you here
instead of at the gateT smiled Putney as the three came
into the room, heavily guarded.
''Wliat did we touch off?” growled the least washed
of the three*
'”Weil, in the first place, when you approached the
fence, the alaiin got us out of bed, and turned on the
flood lights,” began Warren*
'"Open-space !” sneered the leader, ''We”d a' seen
lights aM beat itT
“Look out— the entire grounds are flood-lighted,” re-
plied Putney waving to the screen, and the dark win-
dow. “Only it's dark light.”*
The men looked puzzled. They also looked unhappy*
“What did you men come here for?” demanded War-
ren.
“See if we cbTd get yah and the fly-cops outta bed.”
“I think they don't mean to answer, Putt,” said War-
ren soberly, turning to Ms friend. “We'd better take
them down to the laboratory and the infra-compressor
till they become more talkative.”
A gleam of laughter came into Putney's eyes. “Why
not start them on the vibrator?”
“All right. Take ’em down, men,” Three very
worried crooks heavily guarded by ten husky scientist-
mechanics were taken down to the laboratory.
“I don't think it's fair to use the vibrator on 'em with-
out giving 'em another chance to talk.” . Kennet turned
a compassionate eye on the invaders.
“Oil, I dumio. They knew what ivas cornin' when
they came here, and besides, it doesn’t always cripple
them. I remember the first time they used it the thing
broke down about fifteen seconds, and the guy could
walk within two weeks,”
“Hey, guy, wat is dis ting?” asked the smallest of the
captives. His voice was very hard— and slightly
strained.
""Well, they attach electric things to your arms and
legs,” invented Kennet rapidly, “and they turn on a cur-
rent that sorta slowly fires you inside, and makes you
jerk and vibrate so your bones come out of the joints,
and—biit you'll see it pretty soonP Again that com-
passionate eye swept them.
They readied the main laboratory door, and Kennet
told the others to hold them here while lie went in. In
a moment Putney and Warren appeared, and ^ rapidly
Kennet sketched Ms invention.
Ten minuies later the captives were brought in. A
heavy ivooden chair painted a glossy black was set beside
a huge mass of compact apparatus. As they entered
Putney threw a switch, and with a tremendous crackling,
sparks five feet long* began leaping from one contact to
another. The humming deepened, and the sparks be-
came steady roaring flame. Heavy chains hung over
the chair, and some great thick cables stretched from the
apparatus, ending in straps of soft copper,
“Tut the big one in it first,” ordered W arren, cocking
Ins head and looking at Mm. “Hell last loiigerr”
The big one attempted tc resist, bui was soon seated
and chained in the great wooden, straight backed chair.
Close behind his ears was that dull, powerfiii hum, and
ihe roar and snap of vicious sparks that weirdly lit the
laboratory ivitii a flickering blue flame.
“’Say, Vdarren, why not give the guy another chance
before you start. Hel! be erippled afterwards and may
not be able to talk for ei while?*'* suggested Kennet.
BEYOND THE END OF SPACE
1105
II! talk— Fll talk,” agreed the man in his fright.
Accompanied by the hum and the crackle of sparks^
lit by their flickering flamCj the man talked fast and he
talked truthfully. He didn't like the feel of heavy cop-
per bands on his wrists, and the sound of snapping
sparks. His account was detailed and vivid.
He had been sent to get any papers or notes he could
find about the study, a map of which he had been given.
Meanwhile his companion would attempt to locate and
abstract the instruments that Atkill had described. They
were to be taken to a certain junk shop, where some one
would call for them. That was all he knew. The others
ardently agreed.
“Whatli we do with 'em?” asked Kennet finally when
Warren had asked all the questions he wanted.
^^Oh, send them back. We haven't any use for them.”
It was three hours later when ^^Sporty” Cantoli re-
ported to Joe Keller, announcing that his three men had
come back badly scared, and convinced that they had
escaped by a narrow margin from the fiends of hell.
They had told everything they knew, and described
vividly the torture they had undergone. Sporty re-
ported he had not succeeded in getting anyone else to
do the job,
CHAPTER VI
'W ELLO, Gramps,” grinned Atkill as he came
r — I into the sedate, carefully furnished office of
M. A Thaddeus Nestor, ^T've been making inquiries,
and a friend of mine tried to steal those things, or have
them stolen. Three men went, but Putney's no fool, as
I said, and he had the whole place lit up with ultra-violet
floodlights, and the men didn't even know they were
walking under brilliant lights. They watched my friends
come across the yard, and finally captured them.
They've wired the big fence with A.C, evidently, for
when they touched it they just bounced off again. Looks
as though we'll have to work through Wilson if at all.
Maybe he can give us some plans of the fortifications.”
'Tn the first place,” Nestor snapped irritably, ''I'm
not your grandfather — upraise the good Lord— and in the
second place I don't like this sending thieves. Did they
tell anything?”
^'Did they talk?” Atkill smiled faintly, ''Did you
think Putney wouldn't make them? He strapped 'em
in a big wooden chair and set up a Tesla coil behind
their ears. Loud noises, big sparks, spectacular display
—and heavy copper conductors strapped on their wrists.
Ill bet they talked so fast a dictaphone couldn't keep
up,” Atkill smiled faintly. "But don't worry, they
didn't know anything anyway— or they'd have had the
sense to carry a flourescent screen of some sort to warn
them. I asked a friend and he asked a friend of his
and the friend of his confidentially told a friend of his,
who sent three of his men. Besides, Putney knew who
sent them without asking, anyway. Nobody else wanted
the junk.”
"Well then, see the trouble you've got us into at the
start!” wailed Nestor. "What can we do?”
"What can they do?” laughed the physicist. "They
can't prove a thing. As a matter of fact they have made
it impossible to send any of Joe Keller's friends. The
whole gang is so scared now they wouldn't talk about
it above whispers. I've got to hand it to that boy, Put-
ney. Police protection wouldn't stop those crooks, but
the 'muscle' they've got now stops every one of them.
"'Muscle'? What's that?” Nestor inquired blankly.
"Reputation for unpleasant happenings.” Atkill
smiled engagingly. "In the meantime I've made some
progress. My apparatus is started. And I think I know
what Warren was trying to do.”
"What?”
"Transmutation,”
"Yes, of course. Is that the best your famous brain
can do? Anyone over at the University could have told
you.”
"Yes, that's the best I can do right now. You ask
one of your University friends what Warren's theory of
transmutation was. If he can't tell you, I will.” Atkill
started for the door, and called over his shoulder as he
left, "But it doesn't work that way, so we can't make
gold. I'm going to work,”
Nestor looked suddenly interested, as Atkill men-
tioned transmutation, but his face fell as he was assured
it wouldn't work. He growled some unintelligible re-
mark, then picked up his desk telephone, and called a
number at the University. Presently he was speaking
to Professor William Boyd.
"Hello, Professor Boyd?”
"Yes, is this Mr. Nestor?”
"Right. Say, do you know what Warren was work-
ing on when he ruined that apparatus?”
"It wasn't Warren who ruined the apparatus, Mr.
Nestor, but his assistant, Blamen. But they were work-
ing on the transmutation of the atom. He hoped to
change the nuclear structure.”
"Uhuh, so I heard. Do you happen to know what this
hyp— hypothenuse was?”
"I can't say, he didn't tell anyone. I'm sorry, but why
don't you ask him ?”
Nestor growled, and hung up, and Boyd left the tele-
phone with a gesture of distaste.
Atkill had found out where Wilson usually ate when
he was in town for purchasing supplies, and had set a
man to watch for him on his next trip into the city.
Nearly a week went by, and Atkill was growing nervous.
His apparatus had been finished, as best he could make
it, and the Sanderson tube connected. However, it had
a nickel wire instead of the iron wire Warren had used,
and he was not at all sure what his results would be.
Two tentative, low- voltage discharges in the tube had
merely resulted in a peculiar feeling of strain in the labo-
ratory, a feeling of some terrific jerk.
The mechanics had assisted him in making his appara-
tus, and had directed the work really, for they had seen
the original mechanism Warren used in his successful,
if not over-successful experiment. But they did not
know that Warren had sent a current through the little
iron wire, and Atkill did not guess this, for though the
filaments had been sealed in all the tubes, they were prac-
tically never used, there was so seldom any reason for
them. Sanderson had put them there in case they should
be wanted, for it would be impossible to insert them after
the tube was brought to earth.
That, and the fact that Atkill was afraid, with reason,
to try any high voltage on his tube, made his experi-
ments unsuccessful. Further, his magnets were not
properly arranged. Warren had changed them after
the photograph Atkill worked from had been taken.
But when at last his scout reported that Wilson was
entering the little restaurant, Atkill left his laboratory
at once and hurried over to meet the little man.
He found him seated in one of the small private
1106
AMAZING STORIES
booths, a waiter hovering near« It was one of the old-
fashioned restaurants where waiters served the custom-
ers, as Atkill knew. This particular waiter was in his
pay, however.
Wilson glanced up as Atkill entered. ^‘Dr. Atkill !’^
he exclaimed as he recognized the famous physicist.’'
Wilson agreed with Nestor's description. He had a
disappointed look. Atkill was anxious to change that.
^'Hello Wilson, may I join you?''
*‘Certamly, Doctor. I didn't think you^d know me,
though I naturally knew you."
^^Oh, I've seen you around," Atkill's smile was
friendly, it seemed to intimate that Wilson was an equal,
and a man he was glad to be friendly with. ^^And then
too, I've used that clever little microspectroscope of
yours."
Wilson glowed with satisfaction. His one invention,
a slight improvement on an existing device, was a thing
very dear to him, Atkill had won him over completely.
Half an hour later they left the restaurant the best of
friends, Atkill had spread himself to be agreeable, and
Wilson had talked a great deal more than he realized.
Atkill had a perfect map of the complete defenses of the
Putney laboratory, and knew exactly where to find the
notes w^hen he got in. However, he decided to send
someone else. He couldn't afford to be captured.
^^That fence — Kilever! Bet Warren thought of the
capacitance bridge. But w^e can overcome that wdth a
little patience. A bridge of our own, and a little static
apparatus " Atkill began planning just what sort
of a thing would be needed to neutralize the effects of a
man's capacity on the fence. He set to work on it soon
after he reached the laboratory, and in a few hours had
a suitcase that would contain his apparatus, within it
the assembled machine was ready for use. He tried it
on a metal plate set up against the wall, and the results
gave perfect success. He could walk to the plate leisure-
ly, and touch it without so much as disturbing the sen-
sitive capacitance bridge.
He put his apparatus in the office safe, took down his
hat, and shrugged on his coat, after carefully washing
up. He was smiling contentedly as he walked toward
the moving way on Fifth Avenue Third. He threw
away his cigarette, and stepped upon the third level
escalator, paid his fare, and started toward the informa-
tion point.
He found Joe in a little cottage on the Palisades. Joe
was nattily dressed now, and looking happy. His cot-
tage was entirely automatic, and heavily armed. The
police, moreover, w'ere no longer looking for him. He
had grown a new set of finger prints.
Joe didn't greet him so enthusiastically this time. The
last visit had resulted in rather unhappy consequences
for some of his friends. ‘^Hello Atty. Watcha want?"
he asked apathetically,
^T'll tell you, Joe. I want to make an offer," began
the physicist frankly. want a certain job done, it's
going to be a bit difficult, perhaps, but it will be worth it
to me, and I'll make it worth it to you. I'll not give you
any money for it." Joe looked puzzled, but not deeply
so. He wasn't really interested, he had an excellent idea
what the job was.
‘^Nah? What then?"
^'The Death Ray machine— with sixty charges still in
it."
Joe sat up like a spring coming into position. He
stared at Atkill sharply, then slumped unhappily. ''Now I
know it can't be done. What is is? What y're getting at?"
"Oh, Joe, it can be done easily enough — now. You
remember that place where those friends of yours went,
and came back with tales of all sorts of things — ^terrible
things — ? Well, I found out a lot about that place from
a man named Wilson, who works there, and Wilson told
me all about it. You know, those rats of yours started
spouting without so much as a slight burn! They're
dirty liars, Joe. Wilson saw it, and he told me that all
Warren did was to clamp them in a big wooden chair,
and start a spark machine, what we call a Tesla Coil,
about as dangerous as a fly-swatter, right behind their
ears. It looks bad, and those rats got scared, and talked
so fast they couldn't understand all they said. Joe, they
squealed without a heavy touch !"
Joe began to be interested; he was very anxious to
believe this, and to believe he could win that death ray.
"Yuh — ^how ya' know this Wilson bird ain't lyin'?"
"Joe, he wouldn't He thought I was his best friend.
He was spouting forth the confidences of his dried-up,
little heart.
"And he even told me all about the fence, and the
other things they have there. Why I can give you a
map of how to get in there now, and how to get out
again. I'll give you a suitcase that's got a machine in
it that will keep you from affecting their traps. You
know how an old radio set squeals when you take the
shielding off? Well, that's because your hand gets near
it, and upsets the balance. That's what they are using,
and all we have to do, is to put an electrical shield up,
and they'll never know you're there.
"Get three men here, Joe, and I'll show them how to
do it. I even know just where the papers I want are."
Joe was succumbing. That Death Ray sounded good,
the thing sounded easy now.
"Yeah— but what about that fence? Mike said it
kicked like a damn mule?"
"Certainly," replied Atkill. "Tell him to take a good
hold on an electric light wire, and see how it feels. Just
plain ordinary electricity. Every one of you ought to
know that."
"O. K. I ain't tellin' 'em, though. You give 'em
orders, an' if they squeal, that's your bad luck," de-
cided Joe.
An hour later Atkill was giving orders, and demon-
strations in his laboratory. He didn't mind. He knew
that both Warren and Putney knew who it was that was
ordering this attack on their papers. So he showed the
men that his machine prevented their being detected,
showed the film of grey-white paint on the suitcase
that flamed greenish when ultraviolet light struck it,
and gave them a map of the grounds.
Ten minutes later the three gunmen headed for the
New Jersey Monorail.
CHAPTER VII
T he laboratory was lit brilliantly by long grey-
white glowing tubes filled with carbon dioxide
gas. The glowing tubes gave a light precisely
imitating that which streamed in through the great steel-
framed windows, casting a pattern of trapazoids on the
grey floor. But the grey-white tubes gave no shadows
in this place where a shadow might mean an irreparable
accident.
The tripod towers were finished, and the great silvery
domes glowed under the clear light. There was no
BEYOND THE END OF SPACE
1107
quartz tube connecting them now, only the three great
magnets and two long rods of aluminum that failed to
meet by a few inches, just between the poles of the
mighty magnets*
Motors were humming softly, and a half-score of
men stared up at the aluminum dome on the left*
'^How's it going, Ran?'^ called Putney. His voice was
steady, but inside himself he felt an5d:hing but steady.
He had tried to argue with Warren, he knew that War-
ren should not risk his invaluable brain, that some man,
whom the world might replace, should take that chance.
That was reasonable. But it wasnT right, and he knew
it in his heart, when he tried to make Warren agree.
Now Warren was in the aluminum dome, and no man
on earth could readi him to argue more. He was pro-
tected. by an enormous and rapidly increasing charge
of electricity.
Sixteen and a quarter million volts/ ^ called Warren
exultantly, “and risingd’ Minutes went by and the
steady hum of the motors continued, the soft slap-slap-
slap of the silken ribbons that carried their charges up,
and came down for some more.
“Seventeen million volts called Warren. “Itll be
seventeen and a half soon. The leakage is almost noth-
ing. Switches ready
“Right, Ran/' replied Putney steadily.
“Make sure all the electroscopes, both recording and
casual are charged, train your bolometers and other in-
struments. Check up, then for God’s sake, get behind
that lead screen, and use the periscope/'
Swiftly the men checked over a bank of instruments
all focused on the little spot of space between the three
great magnets. Then they retired behind the heavy,
curving sheet of thick lead that sat against one walk A
broad periscope mirror would send the light to them
without sending the harmful radiations, for in its path
it passed through a four-inch-thick plate of ultra- violet-
opaque glass.
Warren watched the instruments before him. The
needle of the electro-static voltmeter device was quiver-
ing at 17-f- now. His swift eyes swept the meters and
saw they were all registering correctly. Then at last he
stepped into a tiny lead closet built in the center of the
aluminum dome. The entire interior was lined with
heavy, thick milky glass, save one port of clear glass.
There were various meters here, and two long glass rods.
His face was flushed as he saw the voltmeter reach
the seventeen and a half mark.
He tripped the green-handled glass rod. There was
a wrench, a tautening, and the meter jumped as the
magnets went on, and the motors below whined to
a stop.
''Here She GoesH He pushed the second rod. There
was a brief flare of light as a bit of iron wire suddenly
exploded into brief incandescence, then a sudden terrific
wrenching, and a tremendous wave of smashed air as
the awful power of seventeen and one-half million volts
jumped across a six-inch gap.
Then a second wave came, a wave of flaring, infinitely
bright, and almost palpable white energy, a cascade of
light that beat down from a tiny point between the great
magnets.
Matter was vanishing! Thrown into another space,
it was rapidly disintegrating !
There was a sudden whine and screech as motors
started, and the magnets lowered rapidly away from the
glowing electrodes of the static generator. The point of
blazing incandescence followed them, rested between
their poles. The crane that supported the magnets swung
them swiftly to a powerful machine on the floor. There
was a thud as heavy plungers shot home, and a seccmd
snap as others shot free. The blazing ball pulsed larger
for the briefest fraction of a second, and dived suddenly
for the machine. It stopped, and hovered like the white
flame of a torch over a small hollow in the top of the
black cube of the squat bulk. It shrank, and burned
steadily and clearly with a brilliant white light,
“Readings !" called \¥arren exultantly.
“X-rays — -none. Cosmics— none. Ultra-V's, none de-
tectable. All radiation seems to be in the visible, princi-
pally in the blue-white range. When first started there
was an instantaneous shot of cosnjics and others, gamma,
X and Ultra- Vs, but they damped out instantly. You
win, Ran, you win!” called Putney joyously.
Warren appeared suddenly, and slid down the quartz
rod to the floor. In an instant he was running toward
the squat machine, Putney behind him.
“How long can it last without additional fuel ?” asked
Putney as they ran.
“God knows, Putt. An hour at least, though. I can't
tell how much the magnets captured and how much
escaped when it went up in incandescence.”
Warren cautiously moved a control. The brilliant ball
seemed to expand, but the radiance died down, its color
remained, but it was dimmer.
“Can't go lower, it's at the minimum now. Shall I
try the fields ?” .
“Eventually, why not now?” replied Putney soberly.
Warren adjusted several rheostats, and read the
meters carefullv. Then he threw a heavv switch. The
ball of luminescence quivered, and dulled to an orange
color. A meter moved, and across the room a huge bar
of rustless steel glowed red. Presently a second of the
score or more glowed. The ball grew smaller, and under
Warren's manipulation turned white once more.
“It works, Putt, it works,” Warren almost ^vhispered.
In less than a minute the entire grill, of more than twenty
heavy steel bars, was glowing bright red over its entire
fifteen foot length. The laboratory was swimming in
heat, but the men scarcely noticed it.
“Feed it!” urged Putney.
Warren cautiously turned a small button. The ball
suddenly quivered and darted down slightly, A line of
red, a fine steel wire had appeared in the center of the
hollow bowl-like depression it swam upon, and the globe
of embodied energy perched on it. The great bars sud-
denly glowed brighter, white hot, and began to slump
swiftly. Only Warren's quick manipulation saved them,
A faint hum from the globe of energy seemed the only
sound in the room. There was a queer pulsing in the
machine before them now.
“It works, Putney, it works all right. I couldn't some-
how picture it happening. I could see that it should, I
thought it would, but I didn't believe. That's it, Putt.
Matter going forever, irrevocably.” There was awe in
the physicist's voice.
“The question is,” Putney reminded him practically,
“will it continue to go forever?”
“Let's start, then!”
That was two days before Atkill spoke to Wilson,
and for the next three days the men worked constantly,
observing, collecting data, then calculating the meaning
of the things they saw and the things they were able to
do. By the third day a tremendous amount of work
1108
AMAZING STORIES
liad been done, and on the evening of that day the first
fire, the Promethean Torch of atomic fires, had been
transferred. Now it rested on a tremendous block of
solid iron, and set about it were the dozens of instrU“
ments that controlled and directed its work. They had
learned many things, and done many things.
And Putney was drawing up their patent claims now.
Immediately after the fire had been started the men
signed a joint statement in the presence of a Notary
Public, and the document was post-marked. It proved
the date of the discovery.
CHAPTER VIII
T he shadowy men moved cautiously forward over
the rough ground. Their autogyro had descended
with the engine oif, and had made but the faint-
est rustle, and now they were cursing softly, as branches
broke under their feet with the multiple snaps and
cracks of light artillery. A city-bred crook in the woods
at night is a forlorn creature.
Finally they reached the clearing, many bruises were
on their shins, given by unseen rocks that sprang sud-
denly into a seemingly clear path.
^^Any light in the green stuff asked Gorilla Mike.
^‘Nope. That light you can’t see isn’t on. Must be
a hell of a light you can’t see. What good does it do
’em anyway.* Course those damn light-beam traps have
some sense, but they don’t floodlight the place,” mut-
tered Shorty.
They approached the fence cautiously, and no sign of
the green flame came from their simple detector. Like-
wise the fence got no impulse from them as they came
toward it. Presently Mike used a heavy pair of bolt-
clippers, and snipped several wires and rods of steel.
He lifted the lock out of the gate bodily, and opened
the way. They filed in cautiously, turned abruptly to
the left, and followed the fence for nearty seventy-five
feet. Then they cautiously set off across the grounds
toward the laboratory building, bulking dim against the
light grey of the clouds racing across the sky. A bright
moon beyond threw a dim radiance on and past
them. But they really had little to fear from any natural
light, for as Atkill had learned from the too talkative
Wilson, Warren was much more willing to trust to the
abilities of his electrical and ultra-violet watchers than
to those of any human watchers.
The suitcase wdiich had been humming softly suddenly
began clicking and humming in jumps and starts.
Shorty looked down at it dubiously. Was the thing go-
ing wrong now, and leaving them marooned inside the
fence? Suddenly he gave a cry of surprise, and pointed
to the hitherto invisible streak of dirty-white paint. It
was flaming with a blinding brilliance. Atkill had chosen
his fluorescent paint well, and it reacted even to the
long ultra- violets Warren was usin^
With a curse the men turned to look for the light,
to shoot it out. The scene was dark as before. No
faintest glimmer lighted the scene. Shorty looked at
the signal again and doubted. His eyes told him there
was no light. This thing said there was. The suitcase
was humming and clicking madly. The thing was
broken. If there was light he could see it.
^*Hey, are yuh goin’ ta stay all night?” demanded
Pete Constanti.
'Ts this thing working or not?” ’At’s wat I wanna
know.”
*^He said yuh couldn’t see the light. Let’s get out.”
^^Beat it then,” ordered Shorty. The three men turned
and raced for the open gate, taking the shortest route.
They hadn’t gone ten paces before a blinding white
beam of light caught them, and held them. Constanti
pulled out a long-barreled revolver. He fired twice and
the light went out. They ran on desperately now, and
then a third spotlight fell on them.
It took time to shoot them out, and there were lights
in the laboratory now. But they ran on again, and no
more lights struck them. Presently the open gate stood
just before them, wedged open by a piece of rock.
Shorty dived for it, and as his body started to pass
through the gate it seemed to strike something, a some-
thing like a very strong sheet of india rubber. There
was nothing but empty space there, but Shorty bounced
back heavily. He sat down even more heavily, and
jumped up with a howl of pain, for there was an out-
cropping of bare, rough rock here.
The two following him hesitated in amazement, rushed
hurriedly forward, and gave low cries of astonishment
as their hands felt it. It %vas soft, yet almost as un-
yielding as a wall of steel padded with thick rubber.
An inch it wmuld yield, then it was immovably fixed.
Pete Constanti had his long-barreled revolver out in an
instant, and he sent three shots whining into the invisi-
ble barrier. Each gave a soft whine as it struck, and
a second soft whine as it bounced from the barrier as
from some marvelous spring. Luckily the bullets had
not been aimed straight ahead, but at an angle and they
did not return to their sender. They whined away to
strike with a distant plop somewhere on a rocky out-
crop.
'T wouldn’t shoot,” said a monstrous voice, ^'because
the bullets will just bounce. Come to the laboratory,”
The voice was very loud, and there was a slight
mechanical timbre to it. But also there was a cold,
deadly tone that made the three think of the tales two
other men had brought back from this place of un-
known horrors, of invisible walls that bullets merely
bounced off, of invisible lights, and incredible and un-
knowable things that watched your every motion. Like
trapped animals they hurled themselves at the barrier.
Shorty Grimm hurled the suitcase with its load of bat-
teries and mechanisms at the invisible wall, and it merely
fell harmless.
''Come to the laboratory, immediately,” the Voice said.
"Wat we gonna do?” quavered an affrighted Gorilla
Mike. "You got us inta this, for God’s sake get us out.”
"We — we better go, I guess,” Shorty said in a low
voice.
Something pushed him from behind, something soft,
but unyielding. With a cry of terror he ran forward,
the wall was following them, pushing them. He ran,
but not more than ten paces before he struck another
of those invisible walls.
It was dark, horribly, weirdly dark, but the suitcase
still flamed, and the lights of the laboratory glowed. All
he knew was that before and behind were walls, walls
that he could not see, and could not break through.
Desperately he pounded on them, hurled himself against
them. They did not even hurt him. He felt as though
he were in some asylum, locked in a padded cell — -a
padded cell whose walls he could not see.
He began to laugh. Mike and Constanti looked at
him with blank, fox-like faces. The laugh was very low
at first, just a chuckle. Then more chuckles, then a wild,
BEYOND THE END OF SPACE
1109
mad laugh that rang out. His pals could not understand.
Pete hit him and he fell to the ground. Mike looked
on uncomprehending. Constanti bent over the fallen
figure, and in a minute the man was stirring again.
’Tanks, Pete. God, it’s like a padded cell, Pete.
Let’s go to dat lab-ra-tory. Maybe they’ll let us out.”
Anything seemed better than this. They started to-
ward the laboratory, feeling for the w^all, but the wall
had moved. The Voice spoke again. “The walls move
with you. You can move toward the laboratory, but in
no other direction.”
Presently they stood in the grey- white light that
streamed from the laboratory door. Two great towers
rose in the room of concrete, two half -dismounted things.
They looked bare and ruined, like half-cleaned skeletons.
In the center of the room was a great mass of iron, and
around it nestled half a dozen mechanisms with long
pointers of gleaming silver pointing at a glowing , ball
that floated unsupported just over the glowing bop of
the massive iron block. There was a slight depression
under it, as though some acid had eaten at it slowly.
A half-score of men stood just within the doorway,
looking out at them. Another man was seated beside
one of the machines grouped about the central massive
block, A tall, powerfully built man, with blond hair
and grey eyes. His face was set and looked unpleasant.
His fingers were working at controls before him. He
looked up at them, and threw back a switch.
“Drop your arms,” he ordered.
Half a dozen guns and three heavy knives came into
view, to be followed by three slung-shots. Warren
looked at them caustically.
“You’re cheating,” he smiled, but the smile wasn’t
pleasant.
“Honest — ’at’s all we got,” objected Constanti.
Warren flipped a switch with another unpleasant
smile. Constanti let out a howl of pain and snatched
at something up his trouser leg, as suddenly Shorty
Grimm howled and pulled a tiny automatic from his
sleeve. He dropped it beside the knife Constanti had
produced.
“Step back from the weapons,” ordered Warren, and
as they retreated, something^ shimmered for an instant
in the light, and a curtain seemed to roll over the
weapons. Warren threw over another switch, and a
series of explosions like Chinese firecrackers rang out,
then the smoke floated away, and there was a little pool
of white-hot, sparkling metal on the smoking ground.
“All right, come in,” he ordered. The three gangsters
came because they couldn’t do an3d:hing else.
“Who sent you?” demanded Warren sharply.
“Aw, we ferget,” snarled Grimm.
“That’s too bad. You like that padded cell you can’t
see? Or do you like this?” Something flashed around
them resembling a sheet of water, and they were stand-
ing in the center of a hollow cylinder of milky light.
The light twisted and flowed in swirling currents.
“Touch it— touch it carefully,” suggested Warren.
“Better, stick your flask into it, and hold the neck with
your handkerchief.
Constanti complied. He had whisky that was 85%
alcohol in that flask. There was a faint crackling noise
as the flask touched the beam, and the cylinder glowed
faintly red for an instant, then relapsed to white.
“Enough — -don’t put your hand in. Drop that flask.”
Constanti stared at it instead. The flask was dripping
moisture. It was white with frost, and drops of a light
blue liquid fell from it in slow succession. He dropped
it. The solid silver flask broke like glass, and the whisky
within was a brown, hard substance that was coated with
frost in an instant. It sizzled on the floor, and in a
minute was melting and running away.
“Now — I think you hme too much space. I’ll close
the column. If you want to talk— talk.”
The milky cylinder began to contract, and as it grew
smaller the men within it felt an awful cold come upon
them. Their breath began to show, and their ears grew
numb. Swiftly the cylinder became smaller, and rapidly
it grew colder.
Presently Grimm saw something else above them. It
was a great, deep-violet roof, and it seemed to be made
up of streamers that fluttered slowly down. It de-
scended, and touched his head. They weren’t streamers,
they were more of that padded force.
“Atkill — he sent us,” wailed Grimm.
Instantly the cold was gone, the milky cylinder sprang
back to its original size, and the violet streamers
vanished.
“How did you pass the fence?” snapped Warren. A
delicious warmth seemed to seep into the chilled men.
It was easy to talk and be warm. Nothing could stop
this man of unknown things.
“He gave us somethin’ in a suitcase. You held it in
your ban’ and the fence didn’ spot you.”
“Where is it?”
“Down on the grounds. I threw it at the wall, an’
it just bounced off it.”
“Wait.” Warren turned to his instruments. Some-
thing fell to the floor with a soft thud behind them,
and the men turned. The suitcase lay on its side.
“Wrecked,” said Warren tersely. “Delicate electro-
static counterpoise, probably, eh Putt?”
“Probably,” replied the black-eyed man beside
Warren.
“Wat saw us?” asked Shorty.
“Your suitcase protected you against any one of our
electro-static detectors, but it couldn’t satisfy three at
once, and when you were within range of the fence,
and of two other detectors, it quit,” replied Warren
with a grin. “What were you after.”
Briefly Grimm told him. Warren looked at Putney,
and then at Grimm. He wrote hastily on a sheet of note
paper, signed it, and passed it to Putney. He too read,
then signed. “Good idea,” was all he said.
“Take this to Atkill with our compliments. Where
is your plane?” said Warren, passing the sheet in a
sealed envelope to Grimm.
Grimm told him. Then something gripped him, some-
thing like the soft, impenetrable wall, but different in
that it held him like a m.onstrous hand. It lifted him,
and he shot through the door, turned, and shot down
the hill, over the fence, and an instant later was stand-
ing beside the plane. The force released him, and was
gone. A moment later the man, his nerves still quiver-
ing, saw Constanti flying through the air, to land gently
twelve feet nearer a huge tree. Constanti stumbled, gave
a low moan, and stood up. “Madre de Dios !” he groaned.
They watched sometliing black hurtle through the
air. It was headed exactly for the huge tree. A shrill
scream of fear rang out as Gorilla Mike saw his end at
hand. The force that carried him bore him toward the
tree, and suddenly there was a crash, the great tree
snapped over — and fell majestically away from the three
men and the machine.
1110
AMAZING STORIES
Gorilla Mike scrambled to his feet hysterically crying^
unhurt. The forces were gone.
But it was an hour before their nerves quieted suffi-
ciently to let one of them take the 'gyro aloft, and to-
ward New York.
CHAPTER IX
T he dull grey light of dawn was just creeping in
through the windows. Atkill *was sitting on the
edge of his bed, and there was an expensive Eng-
lish cigarette between his lips. Shorty Grimm sat across
the table from him. His face was white, his hands
trembled and his breath reeked of cheap whisky. There
was a bottle of AtkilFs private and very fine stock on
the table, and a half empty glass between it and an over-
flowing ash tray. Grimm's eyes held a look of blank
horror and terror.
'‘Gawd, Atty, I saw It. I saw Mike flyiti' through the
air, then I saw him fly inta that tree — -then the tree fell
down, and there was Mike, cryin' like a baby, and
laughin' somethin' awful A man ain't meant to laugh
that way.
‘‘But that Thing seemed all soft, like a rubber sponge,
but it knocked that tree down so easy it didn't even jar
Mike. And that white thing — ^like a big cold ghost all
around us, and we could see through it like a fog. It
was so cold it froze Pete's whisky, and that's good
strong stuff he gets/'
Atkill laughed, a queer, little, strained laugh. ‘Tt was
a lot colder than that, I suspect. Tell me, it turned
white ? But did it get wet, and— water — -blue water
drip from 'it?"
“Yeah," replied Shorty amazed, “how'd you know?"
“It wasn't water, it was air. I didn't know— I
guessed.”
“But — but air ain't like water. It ain't ever a liquid,”
objected the bewildered gangster.
“It is,” replied Atkill patiently, “when it gets cold
enough. You probably saw the coldest flask that ever
existed. It probably didn't have any heat at all — abso-
lute zero.” He ruminated silently. Then stretched and
stood up.
“Sorry, Shorty, but I guess you didn't get hurt. I
didn't think he would hurt you. He should have wiped
you out, of course. I'll bet he could have put you where
they'd never find you within the next hundred million
years,” he smiled unpleasantly, and Grimm looked more
unhealthy than ever. “He could probably have put yon
on the moon without trying, or hidden you in space.
“It's no use though now, Shorty. He's found the
secret. You know that ball of white fire you saw on
the iron block? That little ball of fire was giving off
more power — <ould give more power than all the rest
of the power plants on earth combined. That ball of
fire could have stopped this planet, and made it turn
around and go the other way. It could have lifted this
whole city off the map, and put it down in the middle
of the Pacific Ocean, just as easily as it lifted you and
put you down in the middle of a field, or the middle
of a tree for that matter. There's only one thing that
could stop that little ball of fire,” he went on, more to
himself than to Grimm.
“Wat's that?” asked the awed listener,
“Another one like it, only bigger, Shorty — another
one like it.” He smiled to himself.
“You failed — ^but here's a grand for your trouble and
—unpleasant experiences.” He handed a bill to the man,
and waved him out. Nestor would pay the expenses.
He turned out the light, and went back to bed.
> 1 '^
“Hello, Nestor. Got news for you.” said Atkill as he
came into the sedately luxurious office.
Nestor looked up eagerly, his shrewd eyes snapping.
“What?”
“I sent some men to steal the data from the Putney
place, you know. They came back last night, or rather
this morning, and told a wild tale about being sur-
rounded by walls they couldn't see, that pistol-bullets
bounced off of like rubber balls, that let light through,
but wouldn't let them out. Then they told me about a
ghostly, white cylinder that nearly froze them, and about
a ball of fire the size of a basket-ball resting on a Hock
of iron. And they said something soft picked them up
and hustled them out of the laboratory, and flew across
the field with them. It set one of them down in the
middle of a tree— after knocking down the tree without
jarring the man.
“And he brought me this.” Atkill extended the note
Warren had sent.
“He's done it?” asked Nestor sharply.
“Obviously.” Atkill returned contemptuously^
The note was as follows :
“Messrs, Atkill and Nestor:
We feel it advisable to announce our success in
our experiments to you first of all men. It will
not be worth while to make further attempts to
steal the data you are attempting to get. You will
find full particulars in the patent specification and
claims filed three days ago.
“We don't like to make threats, but we wish to
advise you that this laboratory is adequately pro-
tected.
Compliments to Atkill on his clever electro-
static counterbalance.
Randolph T. Warren
Donald M. Putney.
Nestor snorted. Then he sat back sorrowfully. “It
looks,” he decided, “as though that ungrateful fool
wins.”
“He certainly isn't a fool,” smiled Atkill “And I
don't think him particularly ungrateful. You had him
fired so he'd be of more use to you.
“And I thank him for that compliment. It zms a
clever device. One of the cleverest dodges ever devised
probably.”
“Weil, you may agree with him,” Nestor retorted
angrily,” but at any rate you're through. Get out.”
“One hundred thousand dollars first, please.” Atkill
replied smoothly.
“Huh? Why? You didn't do anything but cost
money. You go read your contract, and you'll see that
if you loose you get $100,000 minus the cost of apparatus,
which was— let me see — seventy-five thousand so far.”
Nestor sat back with an expression such as that worn
by a cat after the untimely demise of the canary.
Atkill looked at him coldly, very coldly, and a flame
of murder, of equally cold murder, lurked in his eyes.
“Oh, is that it? Very clever.” He paused, and the
look in his eyes changed to rapid calculation.
“All right, will you let me leave my apparatus there
in your laboratory until I have that twenty-five thou-
sand in my bank?”
BEYOND THE
END OF SPACE
1111
^^Certainly/^ smirked Nestor, give you a check/^
Twenty minutes later Atkill left with a check for
twenty-five thousand dollars, which he had certified as
soon as he reached the bank. He put it in his safety de-
posit box, and went on in the even tenor of his ways.
He had Nestor's written agreement to leave the appar-
atus as it was till he had his twenty-five thousand in the
bank. He also had Nestor's check, which could not
be stopped, and proved nothing till he cashed it.
xA-tkill had received no money. And he would receive
none till Nestor paid him the rest of his fee, in order
that the bulky apparatus might be moved from a costly
laboratory, which was now thoroughly useless.
Nestor on the other hand, felt that that unhappy busi-
ness was well completed, so far as it touched Atkill.
On the other hand, he was not through. He began
doing some deep and serious thinking. Presently he
called up William J. Fordham, President of the Atlantic
Power Companies. He also arranged to have Arthur
Benholt, of Central States Power and Thomas Ring-
man of Pacific Coast Power Lines on the wire.
^'Gentlemen, this is Thaddeus Nestor speaking, and I
have something of great importance to tell you. It is
too important to trust to the wire. Let us all meet in
St. Louis to-morrow noon. Is that satisfactory?
''What is the basis of this important item?" asked
Fordham cautiously.
"An invention, an invention that will wreck every
power company, every air line, every railroad and
steamship line, every industry in the world! I have
been assured by competent men that it would ruin
every power company within a week of its announce-
ment. It must be stopped."
"We'll be these," said Fordham slowly. The others
agreed, and began crossing oT appointments on memo
slips.
Nestor's assurances had vreight.
CHAPTER X
W E are all here now, Nestor. And all very
anxious to hear what you have to say. What
is this invention that can have such effects?"
demanded Fordham. The big, gray-haired ruddy-faced
man looked nervous, and worried.
"Atomic energy." said Nestor shortly. The three
men started, and gasped slightly.
"Are you sure?" asked Ringman in a slightly un-
steady voice.
"Atkill was working on it for me, and in the mean-
time Warren did the job. Three of my men brought
back tales of some of the things he could do." Briefly
he told them of Atkill's report, and the men's stories.
There was a long silence as the men thought of the
meaning of this.
"Then — ^then he can put us out of business." said Ben-
holt heavily.
"Without even a battle. He can sell mega- watt hours
for what you sell watt hours. He can make airships
that don't use engines, just tiny spots of that fire. We're
ruined if that invention is sold. That is, if it is sold by
him," he added with a sly look.
"Yes, if he sold it to some company—"
"But on the other hand," Nestor interrupted, "If he
should unfortunately die, why perhaps his heirs would
not display his acumen. He has no brother, nor sis-
ter, no near relative. I have investigated, and the only
relative I have located is a second cousin once-removed.
He is a teller in a country bank, and his name is— •James
Oswell Jessop. Mr. Jessop has a wife and three child-
ren, he is about forty-five years of age, and I am sure,
would consider fifty thousand an enormous fortune."
"If Pacific Coast Power Lines fail, I loose three
hundred millions, and the other investors loose another
billion and three quarters," said Ringman. His voice
was shaky. The temptation was great — and he knew
what Nestor meant.
"What could we do with the patent if we had it, that
we could not do by buying it?" demanded Fordham.
"Cover it up." snapped Nestor.
"Why couldn't we do the same if we bought it?"
"Do you think for a second he'd let you? He'd sell
you the power rights, yes, but he wouldn't sell you the
other rights that it involves."
"Why not buy it and use it ourselves?" asked Ben-
holt doubtfully.
"Because," said Nestor with a deadly quiet in his
voice, "Because there won't be any power companies
after that is on the market. Don't you fools see that
they won't need an outside plant for generating power?
Don't you see that trains, factories, small towns, apart-
ments, and perhaps homes even, will simply use an
individual plant. Why is a big plant used today? Be-
cause it's near a waterfall, near a coal mine or near a
number of big towns, and because a big plant is more
efficient than a small one. And because they require
skilled supervision.
"Atkill says this can be developed so that it will need
no supervision. And it certainly needs no wisdom to see
that no fuel is needed save a tiny bit of matter, iron evi-
dently. Who cares for efficiency? Why worry?
"Warren won't sell power—he'll sell power plants !
"Now, do you see why you can't let that invention be-
come public.
"And where do you come in, Nestor?" asked Ford-
ham softly.
"He'd ruin my aircraft business in an instant; he'd
ruin every industry I have a touch in, except the iron
and steel industry.
"And I couldn't buy him over before he completed his
discovery."
Fordham smiled bleakly. "And what would you have
done had you been able to get it?" he asked.
"Used it myself, naturally." replied Nestor. "And
what would you have done in my position?" He looked
shrewdly, and frankly at the bigger, younger man.
"Well, what are we going to do?" asked Ringman,
raising his head from his hands.
"Wait. I think that we will know as soon as War-
ren gets his patents filed. At present he has only a half
dozen sealed envelopes of Process Discovery. When
he's completed his research and not before, he'll turn
in his patents. In case we could discover anything, his
filed patents would prevent our using it.
"On the other hand, if we wait, and he were — to die —
why we could buy the completed patents from his heir,
Jessop in this case."
"And what do you want of us?" demanded Fordham.
"Your help." replied Nestor. Then rapidly he out-
lined his plan to them.
5je j|c ^ ^ ^
"Lord, Putt, there're more things, more angles to this
than a fly has eyes. We certainly can't test all these
1112
AMAZING STORIES
things here on earth. The expIosiTe for instance— the
disintegrating field. Half a dozen of these things can't
possibly be tested here on earth, and the only answer is
— go try it on an asteroid. We’ll have to build a flying
laboratory/' said Warren.
'T agree— for more reasons than one. Now what sort
of a thing had you in mind ?”
dirigible-shaped ship, about two hundred feet long,
and perhaps thirty-five feet diameter. We'd mount
several big energy centers in the exact middle of the
ship. We have found the gravity-field secret, and can
use that. The walls of the ship could be made of beryl-
lium, perhaps eight inches thick for emergencies —
“Beryllium — eight inches for emergencies” exclaimed
Putney. “Lord, beryllium is so— I forget. It’s im-
possible to buy, but we can make all we need. All we
need is a sufficient amount of some other element! But
then, eight inches for emergencies! That’s no more
than a good wall in space.” protested Putney.
“Uhuh— that’s why it’s an emergency fixture. We
w'on’t use material walls, well keep a permanent wall
of force. The X-573 field. Meteors— nothing will pass
that/^
“Right. Much better. And then how do we drive it?”
“Well, we could drive it ahead by simply moving the
wall along. Since that is determined in space by the
coordinates of our control, all we’d have to do is ad-
vance them. But why not use the gravity-field as well?
For high accelerations it would be a lot better. We
couldn’t use it here on earth, or on any planet, but once
free, we’d get a lot more acceleration, because we
wouldn’t feel it.”*^
“Good, Now those ideas— say I like this whole thing.
Well design that ship here and now, and Hultman can
put the thing on paper for us.”
They started then to plan the ship. “Prometheus”
they called it, for it bore the torch of the everlasting fire
that would light man’s way henceforth.
^ The wall of force known as^ field X-S73 was created at any point the
operator wished, by merely setting tfae^ controls. The coordinates so se-
lected ruled the placing of the field in space. ^ Thus by placing it at
one point, and advancing the controls gradually, it simply moved through
space, any force its movement applied, reacting directly on space, not
on its source of energy. This apparent “lifting by the bootstraps” seems
to defy the third law of motion, but actually the reaction is taken up by
space, by the intertwined fields of a million millions suns. Similarly, if
the gravitational field was fixed in space, then the ship would fall into it,
and changing its coordinates would move it along as did the force field.
End of Part I
What Do You Know.?
IjEADERS of Amazing Stories have frequently commented upon the fact that there is more actual knowledge
to be gained through reading its pages than from many a text book. Moreover, most of the stories are
written in a popular vein, making it possible for anyone to grasp important facts.
The questions which we give below are all answered on the pages as listed at the end of the questions. Please
see if you can answer the questions without looking for the answer, and see how well you check up on your general
knowledge of science.
1. What is the character of the mesozoic age? (See
page 1068.)
2. What is the Calaveras skull and what was it sup-
posed to disclose? (See page 1069.)
3. What basis is there for arriving at the age of under-
ground, prehistoric remains? (See page 1069.)
4. What is a fumarole? (See page 1075.)
5. What product is obtained from cycad palms? (See
page 1076.)
6. Who was Poseidon? (See page 1087.)
7. Give a theory of what would happen if matter were
projected out of space? (See page 1101.)
8. How may we define hyperspace? (See page 1101.)
9. Why could the word ‘‘brilliant” not be literally ap-
plied to ultra-violet “light beams”? (See page
1104.)
10. What effect might such beams have that would af-
fect visibility? (See page 1104.)
11. What appliance could be used to warn an observer
of the presence of ultra-violet “light”? (See page
1105.)
12. What is the composition of matter, the product of
smelting operations, as found in ancient Mexico
remains? (See page 1113.)
13. What is the meaning of palaeolithic? (See page
1118.)
14. Write the reaction for the decomposition of am-
monium chlorides giving ammonium, assuming its
possibility? (See page 1124.)
15. How is the electric resistance of a conductor af-
fected by temperature? (See page 1124.)
16. What is Charles' Law? (See page 1124.)
17. What is the temperature of liquefaction of helium?
(See page 1124.)
18. What is the relative weight of the nucleus, the
proton, of the hydrogen atom? (See page 1128.)
19. What holds the electrons in an atom in their orbits ?
(See page 1128.)
20. What is the simplest atom known? (See page 1128.)
By Jack Williamson
Author of ^^The Lady of Lightf^ ^^The Stone from the Green Starf^ etc.
story, by one who is justly called a favorite author, describes life in
A- the stone age, when man was in the most primitive state of advance. It tells
of the discovery of fire and of the combats of the herculean ancestors of our
present race.
Illustrated by MOREY
O N a hot afternoon in June, 1930, I was
standing in front of a newsstand in El Paso,
Texas, examining the latest copy of a maga-
zine of science fiction.
'^'Like 'em?'' a pleasant voice inquired at
my elbow.
^^Yes," I said. ^^Merritt and Wells and- — — "
I caught myself, looked up swiftly to see who had
accosted me. A young man stood beside me. Tall and
well built he was, in shirt sleeves. His black trousers
and cheap shoes had seen better days. But his eyes
were blue and brilliant with strange enthusiasm.
He stood still, smiling a little, while I measured him.
''Beg your pardon," he said. 'T read 'em myself.
It struck me we were kindred spirits."
"Glad you spoke. I haven't anything to do. And I
like to talk science fiction. If you like, we can go some-
where to lunch."
There was something about his face that suggested
my words ; and a quick gleam in his brilliant eyes replied
to them. But he flushed a little, spoke quickly,
"No. Thanks. I've just eaten."
"I was going. We can talk as we eat- —
He weakened visibly, collapsed.
"All right. I'll come. A fifteen cent feed at that
Coney Island joint- — anyhow—"
We found a promising place, dark and cool, with elec-
tric fans whining overhead. My new acquaintance did
his best to conceal impatience, while we waited for two
full orders. I discovered that he thought Wells and
Verne a bit old-fashioned and dry, that he had vastly
enjoyed Merritt's story, "The Moon Pool."
When the soup and roast beef came, with coffee and
pie and what-not along with it all, conversation lagged.
He ate with the gusto of one who has been for some
time practising economy in his diet. At last he pushed
back his cleaned plate, rose, flushing a little again.
"You know, this is darned good of you, Mr, — — "
"Stewart, John Stewart. And it's quite all right.
Glad I met you."
"My name's Jimmy Miles," he said as we strolled
back out into the baking street. "Sort of roving elec-
trical engineer. No college. But I've worked in power
houses— nineteen of 'em, to be exact.
"And if you're interested, I've got something to show
you— pay you for — — "
"Don't worry about the dinner!" I said, "I write a
little, and am interested in characters."
"Business proposition, eh?" He laughed. "Well,
this might give you a plot. Strange enough!"
"Of course I want to hear it. What is it?"
"V/ell, to begin at the first, I came here a couple of
months ago. Failed to land any job down at the light-
plant. Should have been drifting on — I had enough to
carry me on till I found something. But one day I got
to looking in a pawnshop window— — " He paused.
"Yes, they fascinate me," he went on. "Every brighti
useless article under the sun. Diamonds and watches
and jewelry. Pistols and knives. Kodaks and phono-
graphs. Probably a thrilling story for every one of
them !
s
i
"T FOUND a strange thing in that window. Sort off
L a crystal. Looked like red glass, or ruby. Star-
shaped. A big thing, heavy, nearly three feet across.
I'd never seen anything like it— from what I know of
chemistry, there isn't any known substance that crystal-
lizes in five-pointed stars.
"I went in to examine it. The proprietor said that a
Mexican had brought it in two or three weeks before.
Seems he'd smuggled it across the river from Juarez,
said it came from the ruins of an old fallen building in
the desert, way down in Chihuahua."
"I know the sort of thing," I said. "Big mounds of
dirt, crumbled mud walls with broken pottery and stone
axes and what-not mixed in. I've just been down on
the Casas Grandes River — uncle has a ranch down there.
Saw lots of the mounds — the Mexicans call 'em moc-^
teeumas. They have been digging them up, treasure-
hunting — -some of them have pieces of matte in them^
copper alloyed with silver and gold, just as if it had
came out of a prehistoric furnace. Nobody knows when
those fellows lived there. To judge from the ruins, the
whole valley must have been farmed."
"Well anyhow, this peon had brought the crystal
across the river, claiming he had dug it up in an old
ruin. Seemed to think it was a diamond, fabulously
huge. The pawnbroker knew it wasn't any diamond, of
course. But he let the fellow have something for it,
"The thing aroused my curiosity immensely* The
pawnbroker wanted two hundred dollars for it. That
was more than I had in the world. After three days, I
drove him down to a hundred and seventeen. That left
me with sixty-one dollars. I've lived six weeks on that,
and spent twenty of it for apparatus to test the crystal
with.
"Dingy little room I have, hot as a furnace. It looks
out on a ventilator shaft. Three dollars a week. Liv-
ing on dry bread, and raisins and a slab of cheese, in my
room. When I want to celebrate, a little cheap fruit,
1113
1114
AMAZING STORIES
IN THE SCARLET STAR
1115
or a glass of milk and a slab of pie at that Coney Island
joint.” He grinned.
^'But what about the crystal? What is it?”
'‘I don't know what it is. But I do know that it's
worth every cent I paid for it. Fve been starving along,
struggling with it, hoping to learn the secret of it, before
I had to turn it over to some museum or college pro-
fessor for a song. And IVe done it!
''That crystal is the greatest thing since Columbus!”
"How?” I pressed him.
"You read those stories about worlds in the Fourth
Dimension, worlds in the atom, worlds in the infra-red
spectrum, worlds — — ”
"Read 'em and laugh, mostly. I can admit people on
other planets, but as for the Fourth Dimension
stuff ■ -
"I used to be that way. But Stewart, you know that
crystal is a connecting link with another world! Fve
never gone through, myself. But I tied my watch on a
string, 'and let it through.”
I T E laughed, ruefully. "And something happened to
A it. I'd. been planning to pawn it. It came back
all right ; but it wasn't worth pawning any more. Crys-
tal broken, figures faded off the face, case worn and
works corroded and ruined. Looked like it had been
lying out in the weather a century or so.”
I looked keenly at the man, to see if he were paying
for a good dinner with a good lie. A smile of enthusi-
asm was on his thin face, his blue eyes were very bright.
He seemed quite grave and serious, and for the life of
me I could not doubt his sincerity.
"Come around to my room, if you like, and I'll show
it to you.”
CCTy • 195
1 m coming !
What he said had appealed indeed to my love of the
marvelous and the fantastic.
We had been strolling down the sultry street. Now
he quickened our pace, led the way toward the river,
where there were many mysterious doors, where there
were little fruit stands and dirty street peddlers, where
there were signs in Spanish and Chinese, and an alien
note to the voice of the crowd.
"Not the best neighborhood in town,” Jimmy Miles
observed. "But one cannot be a chooser on three dol-
lars a week,”
He slipped between a swarthy Mexican and a strap-
ping colored woman, and led me into a dingy lobby, a
dark and stale-smelling lobby, where a crippled man and
a white-haired patriarch were playing a languishing game
with dirty cards, and a thin dyspeptic fellow was wearily
rattling a newspaper.
He led me quickly across the room, up a narrow steep
stairs, and down a long dark hall, that was hot and un-
pleasant with a faint, sickly odor. He stopped before a
blank door, and turned a key in the lock. I followed him.
A mere cell it was, with a narrow bed, a tall scarred
bureau wdth cracked mirror, a broken rocking chair,
and a tottering stand. The one little window opened on
a hot, black roof, with a blank wall eight feet away.
The room was stifling in the sultry midsummer after-
noon.
"Seel”
Jimmy Miles pointed to the strangest piece of ap-
paratus that I had ever seen. It stood in the corner of
the little room, back of the door, filling most of the
available floor space.
Set on a low bench, apparently made mostly of pack-
ing boxes, was a wonderful, blazing gem. A five-
pointed star, nearly three feet across, perfectly formed
of scintiilant crystal, scarlet, ruby-red, sparkling. It
was like a five-pointed star sawed out of an inch-thick
sheet of flawless blood-ruby.
Beside the crystal, on the bench, was a little stack of
dry cells, a Ford coil, and a small brass switch, con-
nected with wires that ran under the bench. I saw a
radio "B” battery, an electron tube and rheostat, and
some more wiring that I did not understand.
"There she is,” he said.
"Quite interesting. I hardly see what it's all about.”
"Well, I found out something interesting about the
crystal. It isn't a natural formation. It's artificial——”
"Artificial!” • .
"Made by man- — or at least by some intelligent being
■ — without a doubt! There are two little platinum studs
on the lower side of it, that I have the coil connected
to. And it's got metal parts inside it. The crystal stuff
may just be cast over it to protect it.”
''13. UT those Indians, whose ruins' are the moctemmas,
aJ didn't know anything about the use of metals, even
if they did smelt them a little.”
"No use to argue that. They may have found the
thing in the ruins of an older civilization. It's hard as
diamond; it must be nearly indestructible. Just another
puzzling relic of a lost civilization, like the Great Pyra-
mid. More ■ than likely the people that made it went
inside it— went through it to that other world. You
say you write stories. There's drama for you. ' A
doomed continent sinks into the sea and the scientists
toil to make the star to let them into another world.
"And of course there is the interesting possibility that
it was made by a race of that other world, who wanted
a window into our space.”
"How does it work?” I demanded.
He looked around the bare, little room, evidently in
search of something, then fumbled in one of the bureau
drawers, where there was half a loaf of bread and some
grocer's sacks. He produced an empty sardine tin,
which he laid on the scarlet, star-shaped crystal.
"I send the discharge of the coil through it,” he said.
"It glows, phosphoresces like the diamond does under
kathode rays. But the emanation from it has a queer
effect.” *
He closed the little switch. The Ford coil buzzed
angrily, and purple sparks played about its points. And
a soft crimson fire shone from the crystal, it seemed to
melt into a rosy fog. Pale weird lights of green and
purple and blue played about the edges of the red flame.
Bathed in soft, red fire, the tin can sank through the
crystal. Gleaming crimson mist flowed over it — ^the
crystal seemed to have become a mere nebulous scarlet
haze. The tin vanished as if it had been dropped into
a basin of blood. And quickly though the man still held
down the key, the coruscating mist faded, and the star
was real again, sharply distinct,
"It isn't on the other side of the crystal,” Jimmy said.
"Not on the bottom, I mean. It has somehow gone
through it to another world. It may come back when I
break the circuit; that somehow reverses he process.
My watch came back — rather the worse for the experi-
ence.”
He raised his finger from the key. And the shimmer-
ing red mist rose about the scarlet star again, until the
1116
AMAZING STORIES
crystal itself seemed to dissolve in a fog of dancing red
molecules. And the sardine tin popped up through the
ruby fog,
B ut it was a sadly altered can, battered and rusty as
though it had been lying out of doors for months,
''Gone to the bad, like the watch/' he said,
^'Mostly, things come back when I break the circuit.
That somehow seems to reverse the process. There is
an analogy in electricity. When you have a secondary
coil wound about a primary, a current is induced, for
a moment, when you send a current through the primary
coil. When t|ie primary current reaches its full value,
the sea>ndary drops ■ to zero. But when you break
the primary circuit, the induced current again flows
through the secondary circuit, this time in the opposite
direction. This phenomenon must be of the same order/'
''But where is it that the can went?"
‘''Frankly, I don't know, not positively. But I think
it went through the space that mathematicians call the
Fourth Dimension, until it entered another plane along”
side our world, parallel to it. Let us say that this crystal
is just a sort of boundary, or meeting place, between
that other world, and this, in the Fourth Dimension.
“When we send the current through the coil, a sort
of magnetic effect carries the body through the opening,
as it were, into this other space; and when the circuit
is broken the magnetic effect is reversed, drav/ing the
body back."
“Tve read stories of the Fourth Dimension,"
“So have I— written mostly by men who considered
it a sort of weird fairyland, without any conception of
the scientific factors involved. But the Fourth Dimen™
sioiial hypothesis seems to fit all the elements here bet-
ter than anything else I can think of."
The man turned toward me suddenly, with fierce
determination glowing in his blue eyes. “I'm going
through tonight," he said. “I wish you would operate
the svritch for me."
“Going into that I Without knowing !"
“That's the way to find out. The watch and the can
came back. I ought to manage it."
“Well, I can stand by, of course. But I'd wait— —
‘T need a condenser, and another coil and more bat-
teries, to increase the power to man-size capacity. If—
I wonder if— if you could let me have a few dollars—"
“Of course. Whatever you need."
“The crystal and apparatus will be security,"
“That's all right, "You don't realize that you're giving
me a real adventure."
• I handed the man a twenty-dollar bill, which he blush-
ing'ly accepted.
“If you need more- "
“Tliis is ample. And you might come back — -say, at
eight o'clock. This hole will be cooler then. I'll try
to have everything ready."
I followed him down the dark hall, and out into the
street. ' I went to a show, and then tried to read in my
room at the hotel. But my mind kept running back to
the marvelous crystal that seemed to carry objects to
another world— and to the amazing young man who was
eager to undertake a voyage of discovery more mar-
velous than that of Columbus,
Ordinarily, I should have suspected chicanery, and a
plot to separate me from some money. But I had not
Ihe slightest doubt of Jimmy Miles' sincerity.
My imagination, following his suggestion, persisted
ill building up rather a fantastic story out of it. I pic-
tured a mighty civilization grown up on the earth, and
suddenly faced with a cataclysmic doom — a submergence
of continents, or an age of ice, or collision with a comet
—the struggle to build the crystal, the escape, through
it to a new world in the Fourth Dimension— and the
crystal, by some freak of fate, the sole memento of that
vanished race upon the earth— though what an empire
they might have in the new world !
I MPATIENTLY I awaited the appointed hour; and
when it came I hurried down to the shabby little
hotel, so wrought up that I hardly noticed the bright
windows and the gay, half -alien throngs that ordinarily
I studied so intently. I found my way up to Jimmy's
room, and knocked on the door.
When he let me in I saw that he had new apparatus
attached to the crystal, to bring a more powerful and
more accurately regulated current through it I found
that he had not eaten, so I insisted that we go down and
get supper before the trial. He came rather reluctantly,
but ate heartily enough.
By nine o'clock we were back in the little room.
Jimmy gave me detailed instructions for operating the
rheostat and switches— I was to hold the key down for
exactly one minute. He handed me a long legal en-
velope. I opened it, and found this document:
To Whom it May Concern:
This is to certify that I, James R. Miles, do this
night of June 3, 1930, enter upon a most perilous
adventure, in full knowledge of the peril to my own
life and person thereby incurred, Mr. Stewart, or
no other person, is to be held responsible in the
event of my injury or complete disappearance.
(Signed) James R. Miles
Below was the signature and seal of a notary public
who had acknowledged the document.
“In case something happens," he said, ^'jon might
find that useful. Not likely to be any inquiries, though.
I haven’t a relation in the world."
With these words, he stepped lightly upon the flat,
polished surface of the scarlet crystal star, and stood
waiting, slender, erect, eager, his blue eyes burning in-
tensely.
“Shoot!" he said.
Suddenly I felt a lump in my throat. For no very
good reason, I felt tears springing into my eyes. I tried
to say something, but at the moment I could not speak.
I realized there would be no dissuading the young man
from his adventure.
With an e3^e on the second hand of my watch, I
pressed the little button that completed the circuit. The
coils buzzed, wasp-like. A soft red mist rose about the
crystal — it seemed oddly as if the gleaming thing van-
ished, ceased to exist in our space at all, leaving a sort
of door that was screened with the dancing rosy mist
And Jimmy Miles fell through the scarlet star.
Quickly, as if some strong magnetic attraction were
drawing him, he dropped into the three- foot blur of
crimson fog. He wwed his hand briefly, as I pressed
the button. And he opened his lips, to breathe a sound
that might have been “Good-by" if he had stayed to
finish it.
It was over in a split second. The red mists had
faded, and the gleaming star had recovered its appear-
ance of brilliantly polished ruby.
IN THE SCARLET STAR
lii'i
I SAT on the broken chair, in the stuffy little room.
My watch was on my knee, and I held the key down
with a finger. The coil was buzzing merrily, with
purple fire flashing from it.s contact points. My eye
traveled restlessly between the crawling second-hand of
the watch and the rude apparatus that had sent a man on
an amazing voyage of exploration. I moved a little, sat
straighter, in my tense nervous strain. In my pocket
I heard the rattle of the document which was to absolve
me from prosecution for murder, if Jimmy did not
come back.
It was all beginning to seem very wild and fantastic,
when the end of the minute came. And I felt an icy
chill of fear. What if that vaguely guessed-at reversed
magnetic poweffof the crystal failed to function? What
if it failed to draw Jimmy Miles back into our world?
I was near crying out with the strain when the end
of the minute came, I raised the key. The hum of the
coil ceased abruptly. And the glistening surface of the
scarlet star seemed to melt into a dancing mist of ruby-
particles.
And an amazing apparition plunged up through that
bloody fog.
The Jimmy Miles, who had vanished through the
crystal one minute before, had been clad in conventional
civilized clothing, if a bit shabby. Now a half-naked
savage stood on the glistening surface of the crystal.
He had a good deal of beard, and unkempt hair fell to
his naked bronzed shoulders. There was a livid scar
across his great bare breast. His only garment was a
tawny skin, dressed with the hair on, crudely fastened
about his middle. In one mighty hand he grasped a coil
of rawhide rope.
And this amazing stranger raised a bronzed arm,
cried out in astonishment evidently as great as my own.
Then he grinned at me in astounded recognition, and I
realized that he was indeed Jimmy Miles, but changed
immensely. Instead of a slight boy, or little more, he
was now a powerful man, tremendously muscled — and
extremely unkempt.
It seemed as if he had aged years in a single minute
of our time.
''Still here, Stewart?’'
He spoke hesitantly, in a voice rusty, it seemed, from
disuse.
'Wes. Yes, of course. But what has happened to
you.”
"Of course? And still in this same little room? And
you don't look — ^why you look as I might have left you
yesterday !”
"Yesterday? I held the key down just one min-
ute- —
"One minute ! Man you're foolish ! It's years ! I've
been roaming a strange world for 3^ears. A moment
ago I was stalking a wild horse with Harr Garr, without
a thought in the world of the old life. And to be
snatched up like this!
"You don't believe it? Look at this hair, this beard!
Look at these !” He touched the great scar on his chest,
a livid white spot on his forehead. Evidently wounds,
long-healed. "Does a man collect such things in a
minute ? Y oii're crazy !”
"No. No. But a strange world, you say?”
Y es. I can tell you about it. Plenty of time. But
this! Still 1930? I had figured it ought to be
'35, at least. How in the Sam Hill—-”
"I have it!” I interjected. "The watch and the tin
can! They showed the effects of months of time. Time
passes faster in that other world T
The giant bowed his shaggy head, considered.
"Yes, it could be. Relativity and so on. And it must
really be in the Fourth Dimension. The crystal is just
a door between two worlds. The magnetic attraction
draws one way when the current is turned on, and jerks
the object back with the reversed field when the circuit
is broken.”
"Logical enough, as such things go.”
"I'd given up all hope of coming back. 1 was making
the best of things there. The Lord knows I had thrills
enough 1”
"Tell me!” I demanded.
"Give me time!” The naked, bronzed giant stepped
down from the little crystal, flexing mighty limbs,
"You need some clothing.”
"Presently. Before I go out, of course. But Fm
pretty well used to going as I am.” He looked down
at the spotted, tawny hide about him. "Skin of a leopard
I killed myself,” he commented,
"Shoot! Spill it!” I demanded.
He stepped over to the bed, a splendid bronzed giant,
and deliberately seated himself upon a none-too-clean
sheet, fixing his brilliant eyes upon me.
"To begin with,” he said, "it seems to me that it
about five years since I saw you last. I was not able
to measure time very exactly, however, for on the planet
where I found myself, seasonal changes were not per-
ceptible. And the sky was uniformly cloudy, so that
only occasionally was I able to see sun or stars. I did
get enough glimpse of the sky there, .however, to assure
myself that, by day and by night, it looks somewhat as
the sky of earth, though the sun seems rather larger
and bluer, and the constellations of the stars are strange.
"That world, too, seems much younger than the earth
—say, about like what the earth probably was when
man first appeared upon it. There was no winter while
I was there, no frost, and the climate was uniformly
warm and wet. It is a world of luxuriant jungle.
"But I suppose I should begin with the sensations of
the change. When I stood upon the crystal, and you
depressed the switch, I felt as if I were floating on
immense waves of pozver. Then the room grew black,
about me, and vanished. I reeled, had a dizzy feeling
of falling. That is all.
"Then I was standing in that new world.
"Literally new, I suppose. I found myself in a rank,
luxuriant jungle. Above me towered a larger tree than
I have ever seen on earth. It must have been nearly a
thousand feet high; sometimes its top was actually hid-
den in the low gray clouds. For it was always cloudy
in that world, and warm, rain drizzled almost endlessly
down upon the rank, fern-like undergrowth that rose
in the gray light.
"I was standing there, in a primeval jungle, rather
amazed, and a little terrified. I v/as expecting to be
brought back to this world in a minute, of course. I
even tried to count the seconds, after I got over the
first amazement and began to be worried. I had ex-
pected to find the crystal still visible in that other world.
I COUNTED to many' times sixty— and nothing
happened. I felt a chill of horror. I knew that I
was not going back.
"For a few hours I could do nothing but wander
1118
AMAZING STORIES
about beneath that mighty tree, staring up at the tin-
broken ceiling of cloud, lost in wonder. There was no
doubt that I had found another world, but what I was
to do with it seemed a highly uncertain matter.
^^Presently it began to rain harder, so copiously that
even the foliage of the giant tree was scant protection.
While it was raining, night fell, A sudden pall, that
blotted out all the gray light of the sky. I wandered
about in the darkness, now very keenly sensible of the
fact that I was utterly cut off from the wofld I had
left, with no apparent means of getting back.
^ ^Suddenly, I heard the beat of . great wings in the
darkness. And something screamed with a hoarse,
raucous voice that wfhcked my nerves. I felt something
S'zvoosh past me in the air, heard the click of snapping
jaws.
^T know now that it was a most foolish thing to do.
But I turned and ran off through that black jungle,
through utter darkness and rain and mud, blundering
into trees, caught and tripped by vines, splashing into
pools and streams. Two or three times something
started up near me, only increasing my terror.
“Then I was suddenly embraced in great muscular
arms. ' I think I screamed with fear. I struggled my
best to get away. But a baby might as well have strug-
gled in a giant’s grasp. Hairy arms enfolded me. And
presently seeing that ■ my struggles availed me nothing,
and that my unseen captor offered me no. immediate
harm, I relaxed my frenzied efforts.
“I was carried up into a tree. Using a free arm to
feel of my captor, I was soon satisfied that he was some-
thing on the order of an ape or a hairy man; and his
low gutterals had something of the human voice in them.
“That w’-as the beginning of my acquaintance with
Harr Garr, the savage man of this new world. The
meeting was to prove a most fortunate one for me. He
was the rudest of savages, ignorant of metal, even of
fire, and armed only with such sticks and rocks as he
might pick up. Yet he was better prepared for existence
in that world than I was. We seldom think of how
poorly the civilized man is equipped to care for himself
unaided. Our work in this world depends so much upon
machines — upon machines that we must have other
machines to build. And we are all so highly specialized
— no man knows how to do all the tasks required for
his daily comfort.
“I should probably have starved to death, if it had
not been for Harr Garr — or more likely, should have
been eaten before I had time to starve. The fellow kept
me in the tree until morning — he seemed oddly dis-
posed to share my company, and laid mighty hands on
me, whenever I attempted to move.
“For some reason, he seemed rather kindly disposed
toward me — it turned out that he was separated from
his tribe, and his gregarious instinct made even my com-
panionship desirable. He seemed much interested in
sniffing me and feeling of me at first. Presently he re-
leased me, but showed an inclination to lay hold of me
again when I moved. And in the darkness and on our
unfamiliar perch, I did not dare to make any violent
attempt to leave him.
“It was not long before daylight came — the day on
that other world is only about six hours long/*
T he earth had a shorter day during the early ages,
before the tidal drag from the moon slowed it
down/’ I commented.
“When the light came, he descended to the ground, a
vague hairy shape in the half-light. He waited below,
and when I missed my footing on a branch, and thrashed
about in the foliage, holding by my hands, he laughed
at my misadventure In a wholly human, if rather incon-
siderate manner.
“He seemed inclined to be vaguely friendly, and I
realized tliat his good will might be worth a great deal,
since I had not the slightest idea of how I was to get
back to E! Paso. He began looking for his breakfast
at once, and I knew no -better way of satisfying my own
hunger than by imitating his methods.
“The berries and fruits that he ate I could stomach
well enough. But when he took to over-turning stones
and eating the little grubs and hard-shelled things he
found under them, it was too much for me, though he
gave a gutteral grunt that I interpreted as an invitation
to join him. While he was thus engaged, I contrived to
stalk a clumsy, bird-like thing, and to kill it with a
luckily directed stone. I tore the skin off it, and divided
iny gory prize with Harr Garr, thereby, I think, prov-
ing my friendship. I was not yet extremely hungry,
but I thought that since I should probably be reduced
to such fare in the end, I might as well begin at once
and conserve my strength.
“When our meal was over, my companion wiped Ms
great bloody hands on hairy thighs, and made off
through the jungle, grunting as if to ask me to come
on, if I wished. I thought I could do no better than to
go with him. A strange creature he was, loping along
before me, a gray, hairy shape, hunched and shambling,
with great arms hanging almost to the ground and
shaggy head thrust forward. But he was much more
human than animal.
“W’e wandered together for two months or so. I
made a great effort to learn his language. He was
amiable about it, and willing enough to help, though he
tired very easily. His language seemed to consist only
of a few hundred grunts and clicks, sufficient to express
only the most simple and concrete ideas, and them most
crudely.
“As I have said, the name of my odd companion was
Harr Garr. Though he did his best with the jabbering
grunts, he could give me but the vaguest idea of Ms
past history. It seemed that he had always lived among
'The-People-of-the-Mountain’ and that the 'Old-Man-
of-the-Winged-Stone’ had driven him out, not to return
until he brought a ^she’.
“That 'she’ seemed to be the object of Harr Garr's
present rather aimless quest. I had been with him two
of three months before we got on the trail of another
rambling tribe, and then it was another month before
the paleolithic* love affair came to a climax.
“The method of courtship seemed to be to steal along
in the wake of the other tribe, avoiding the males, who
would be only too eager to kill and eat us. But, as I
was a little surprised to note, the lucky lady was not to
be seized by force. For, in that event, as Harr Garr
dramatically expressed it, she would be likely to smash
his head with a rock while he was asleep, and run off.
“TJTE did Ms best to persuade me to accompany him
aA on these surreptitious, amatory expeditions, evi-
dently under the impression that I was in need of a
* An early period in human origin, characterized by weapons made of
stone. It is assigned to the second place of the stone ages or is some-
times used to include four divisions or the whole of them.
IN THE SCARLET STAR
1119
female of my own. But while he was absent on these
trips, I usually spent the time up a tree, grasping a sharp
rock — a sort of triangular ^fist-hatchet' which was the
best weapon I had come across.
^^In the first few days I had been filled with great
ideas of rubbing sticks to make fire, and then smelting
metal, and doing other marvelous stunts. But pretty
soon I found that Harr Garr was just about my equal
in civilization, until I got a little more practical know-
ledge of this young planet. Everything I knew how to
do depended upon tools to work with.
remember very well the day when Harr Garr's
courtship came to a climax. He brought the grinning
bride to my hiding place. She was a much better speci-
men of humanity than I had anticipated. Her body
was erect, almost hairless, and certainly lithe and grace-
ful. She was clothed to the knees in a wealth of curly
brown hair. Her face was not unlovely, and the eyes
were clear and bright, glowing with a love for the gigan-
tic Harr Garr.
was a little amused at the intensity of their affec-
tion, and sometimes almost brought to tears by the
pathos of it. They were bound up in each other, usu-
ally oblivious to my presence. They would sit together
for long periods, holding hands, gazing into each other's
eyes. And when we hunted food, each shared the choic-
est morsels that he found.
‘‘During the first few days, however, there was little
time for love-making. It seemed that the male relations
of Tol-ga, as the girl was called, were immovably op-
posed to the match. We traveled night and day, fre-
quently crossing streams and doubling on our track.
Once a solitary hairy man caught up with us. Harr
Garr joined furious combat with the hulking, shaggy
beast, first with hurled stones, then with tooth and claw.
What the issue of the fight would have been, I do not
know, for Tol-ga, at considerable risk to herself, ran in
and smashed the other creature's head with a rock; her
mate rose victorious.
“We hurried on, and presently threw off the pursuit.
Then life was easier; and Harr Garr and Tol-ga had
time for love-making. The Aveather was always warm ;
there was plenty of fruit and a good many little animals
that might be killed with stones. We lived well enough,
“There were a few adventures with wild animals. It
seemed that the deeper morasses were inhabited by a
huge, winged reptillian monster, something like the old
pterodactyl; and there were huge tiger-like beasts that
roamed the forest at night. But Tol-ga and Harr Garr
knew their habits, and were able to keep us from harm
—though we had escapes that seemed perilously narrow
to me.
“At last we arrived at the settlement of Harr Garr's
tribe, ‘The-People-of-the-Mountain.' A narrow trail
led up the face of a cliff to a broad shelf of rock, five
hundred feet above the jungle in the canyon, A huge
dead tree — it was something like a pine— grew upon this
shelf, which was of some acres extent, and there was a
scattering of other vegetation.
^^TJEHIND the tree was a narrow cave-mouth, open-
X) ing out into a vast cavern in the mountain. We
had been met by a sentry on the path, and a horde of
naked cave-people came pouring out of the gloomy open-
ing as we came upon the broad ledge. All were naked
and somewhat hairy, of about the same type as Harr
Garr,
“There were seven or eight young men, all some-
what older than my companion, and perhaps three times
that many women — mostly scrawny, horrible hags,
though one or two w^ere nearly as good-looking as Tol-
ga. There were so many naked, squalling babies that
I made no attempt to count them. The autocrat of the
tribe seemed to be a huge, gorilla-like creature, rather
old and hideously scarred. Younger men, females, and
dirty children seemed equally in awe of him, and he
appeared to enjoy cuffing all that happened within his
reach. He w^as called Kog, or sometimes ‘The-Old-
Man-of-the-Winged-Stone.'
“The savage creatures seemed amazed at my com-
paratively white, hairless skin. They crowded around,
feeling of me. They were not exactly fragrant, and at
my objection, Harr Garr sprang to my aid and herded
them off. They seemed willing enough to admit me to
the tribe on equal terms, though Kog made it plain that
he would like nothing better than to knock me about, as
he did the others, if I gave him any excuse.
“I saw nothing more desirable than to make my home
Avith them—for all I know they Avere the most highly
civilized race in that world. I hoped presently to get
my scanty scientific knowledge reduced to a state prac-
tical enough to bring these people some of the gifts of
civilization, fire and metal at least.
“But fire was brought to the tribe before my clumsy
experiments w^ere successful.
“I had been wfith the tribe two months, I suppose, had
learned the names of most of the adults, was a lodger
in the caA^ern on equal terms with any except old Kog,
and had been on a few hunting trips Avith Harr Garr.
“There was a dense thicket below the cliff, with the
trail leading up from it to the shelf. This thicket, I
early discovered, was inhabited by a savage creature,
comparable to the saber-toothed tiger, that was the terror
of prehistoric man on earth. The savages seemed to
Avorship him almost as a god, offering him a part of
every kill, in the belief that his spirit hunted with them.
The offerings were left on a great stone before the cave,
at night. Fortunately the entrance was too narrow to
admit the monster. His presence perhaps really had
some practical benefit, in keeping away other and less
dangerous enemies.
“Soon I learned of the human sacrifice to the tiger.
One of the hunters had been bitten by a poisonous snake.
Shrieking, contorted Avith pain, his body already turning
black and swelling, he was carried to the cave. But
instead of taking him inside, the men at the order of
Kog, lifted one side of the great boulder on which the
offerings to the tiger were left, and set it down on the
feet of the howling, bloated cave-man.
“The swift darkness fell; Ave heard the padded foot-
falls of the great beast outside. Then a fresh out-burst
of screaming, that Avas mercifully clipped off. . . ,
“^"I^OL-GA seemed rather more attractive than any
A other Avoman of the tribe — most of them were
aged hags. I suppose she came from a tribe a little
more highly advanced. Almost from the first I had
noticed Kog, the brutish, hulking chief, casting greedy
eyes upon her as she sat in the cave with Harr Garr,
slender and graceful and clad in flowing brown hair,
laughing at her lover with her eyes.
“I think Tol-ga and Harr Garr realized the danger,
too. They talked to me of leaving and establishing a
new tribe. But they knew of no other cave like this one.
1120
AMAZING STORIES
and the great beasts of the jungle were too frequent
to permit a tribe or family to exist without some such
impregnable shelter*
''One day, Kog ventured to assault Tol-ga, when Harr
Garr was outside. Her screams brought her mate into
the cavern on the run. As he came scrambling through
the narrow entrance, Kog flung aside the girl, reached
for his sharp-edged hurling stone,
"Harr Garr did not hesitate an instant, though he had
no weapon, and knew that Kog was much more power-
ful, and cunning with the experience of a thousand
bloody battles.
"He charged across the cave.
"Kog hurled his stone. It missed, was splintered on
the rocks, Harr Garr , struck him, bore him to the
cavern floor.
"They rolled about furiously, biting, gouging, kicking,
and clawing, each seeking to get his hands on the other's
neck, so as to sink fangs in his throat.
"Tol-ga sprang to the aid of her lover as she had done
once before. But the old hags that belonged to Kog
seemed to have enough affection for their brutish master
to pull the girl off, in spite of her furious struggles. In
fact, it was all I could do to keep one of them from
braining Harr Garr on her own account.
"Harr Garr fought furiously, but the other creature
was far heavier, and experienced in combat. Once my
friend got a hold upon him that made him howl with
agony. But he broke away, and in a moment was on
top, driving Harr Garr's head against the cavern floor.
"With a shriek, Tol-ga, struggling like a Fury, broke
loose from the withered creature that was holding her,
and flung herself upon Kog. I succeeded in tripping
up the female that had been attempting to smash Harr
Garr's head, and ran to aid the girl.
"Between us, we managed to pull the monster off her
mate. The young cave-man was stunned, unconscious.
But his marvelously thick skull had saved his life— for
the time being.
"Kog insisted that, as was the rule with the wounded,
aged, or disabled, the boy should be given to 'The-
Watcher-Who-Cries-in-the-Night/ In spite of Tol-ga's
frantic screams, and my own vain objections, Harr Garr
was carried out in front of the cavern. The great rock
was tilted up by four straining men, and the injured
man's feet crushed beneath it, so that the vast strength
of the tiger alone would suffice to draw them forth.
"The quick night fell.
T T ARR GARR was still apparently unconscious.
Al. Tol-ga stayed with him, crying out in agony, and
holding his bleeding head in her arms. The terror of
the coming night drove the cave-men into the cavern.
Even then she would not have left her mate, I think,
but Kog seized her and dragged her inside, holding her
struggling form in huge hair}" arms, while he breathed
amatory mott things into her face.
"Outside, in the darkness, a thunderstorm was sweep-
ing down the canyon. Through the narrow horizontal
slit of the cavern door, I saw the blue glare of lightning
flickering against sheets of falling rain. Thunder
crashed and rolled in booming echoes in the canyon,
while the men in the cave crouched in cowering terror.
"And out in the stormy night, two or three times, I
heard the blood-chilling scream of the tiger, first far
below, then so near that I knew he must be in the broad
ledge before the cave.
"By the brief flashes of lightning that illuminated the
gloomy cavern, I saw that Tol-ga had relaxed in the foul
embrace of Kog, silent and inert, as if resigned to fate.
But suddenly I heard the sound of a sharp scuffle, and
the fall of a heavy body.
"When the next dazzling flash of lightning came, I
saw that Tol-ga had somehow tripped Kog, who now lay
sprawled on the floor. She had escaped his grasp, was
running, already was half way across the cave. In the
momentary illumination she seemed motionless, like a
statue of a splendid figure in action.
"By the time the next flash came, she was leaving the
narrow mouth of the cave. Kog had recovered his feet.
But coward that he was, he could not have been tempted
out into the stormy night, where the tiger waited, for a
whole harem of jungle beauties.
"There was another screaming roar as Tol-ga ran out,
as if the tiger were surprised and angry. Quickly I
scrambled past the huddled, terrified cave-men, to a point
where I could watch from the narrow mouth of the
cavern, though I lacked courage actually to leave it.
"As I reached my point of vantage, a flickering series
of purple flashes lit the scene before me. Harr Garr still
lay with feet beneath the rock. He was conscious now,
half sitting up, and staring in a paralysis of horror at
the huge, tawny beast that crouched a dozen yards away,
giving vent to a frightful scream.
"As I looked, Tol-ga, a slender, trim, wild thing,
mantled in rippling hair, ran across before me, stood be-
tween her lover and the tiger. Another flash came, and
showed her poised there, noble and erect, while the tiger
seemed in the very act of springing.
"Then there was a crashing detonation. The air was
thick with purple sparks— I felt a powerful shock even
as I stood in the cave's mouth. A blinding glare of light
showed fragments of wood raining down before the
cave. Lightning had struck the old pine before the
entrance— splintered it.
"For the moment, the tiger was driven away by the
explosive crash. Tol-ga flung herself upon her mate,
tried vainly to drag him from under the stone. Her
efforts resulted only in a cry of agony from him. She
collapsed on his breast, weeping.
N a few minutes I heard the tiger screaming again,
A approaching. There seemed to be something queru-
lous, hesitant, in his tones. In a moment I saw the
reason. The lightning had fired the dry, resinous trunk
of the old pine. Flickering red flames were dancing
merrily up the splintered bole.
"I heard Harr Garr madly entreating Tol-ga to run
back to the cavern to save herself. She did not. stir.
Then for a long time they were still— the girl there on
the ground, holding up the bleeding head and shoulders
of the mighty man whose feet were crushed beneath the
stone. I suppose they were listening for the footfalls
of the beast.
"At last Tol-ga looked up and saw the tiger. The fire
was fifty yards away from them, the tiger was slinking
uneasily up and down, from time to time raising a low,
impatient growl. The lurid, uncertain light of the burn-
ing tree shone in his eyes.
"With her quick mind, Tol-ga must have understood
at once that the fire was what kept him away. With a
low, soft word to Harr Garr she rose, and stood staring
at the flames. I would give a good deal to know just
what she thought. It is possible, of course, that she had
IN THE SCARLET STAR
iiij.
seen fire before ; but that is not likely, for the cave-meii
seemed to know nothing of it.
''She stood looking at it thoughtfully, for perhaps an
hour. If it was something new to her, she must have
been reasoning pretty clearly, for what happened after-
wards showed that she understood it pretty well, showed
that she knew it was supported by dry wood, and that
the wood was consumed in the process.
"At first the roaring blaze had swept up in a lurid
volcano, lighting the whole shelf before the cavern.
Slowly it died down. And as it died down the restless
tiger came nearer and nearer, and began to repeat his
dreadful screams — -he was evidently getting into a bad
humor. Above the crackle of the dying flames, I could
hear his light, quick footfalls ; his impatient course was
traced by the red coals that seemed to gleam in his eyes.
'A¥hen the flickering, smoky blaze had fallen so that
the tiger seemed about to come up past it, the girl ran to
the lire and seized a blazing branch. She dragged it up
close by the man under the rock.
"The first one went out, through too rough handling.
She burned her hand painfully on the next, and cried
out ; but she was too plucky to give up. Soon she had a
little heap of blazing sticks in front of Harr Garr.
Then she made the great discovery that the phenomenon
could be transmitted to a new piece of dry wood.
"At once she set about gathering up the scattered
fragments of pine scattered about the shelf. By this
time the tiger seemed extremely impatient about his de-
layed dinner— even the storm had frayed his nerves, be-
fore this weird business of fire. He persisted in coming
nearer, leaping restlessly about the fire, champing his
teeth and squalling.
"Twice, the girl very narrowly escaped him, while she
was gathering wood. Then she hit on the idea of carry-
ing a blazing brand with her. Soon the sticks near the
cavern-mouth were exhausted, and she had to go farther
a-field. While she was gone, the tiger crept upon Harr
Garr, determined to get at him in spite of the flames.
C OURAGEOUSLY, the girl ran at the huge, tawny
beast, flourishing her flaming pine-knot. The tiger
snarled savagely, refused to retreat. The girl came on,
drove the blazing stick into his face. He sprang back
with a howl of pain.
"And Tol-ga went after him.
"She passed out of my sight. She was driving the
tiger toward the narrow end of the shelf, toward the
sheer precipice behind it, I heard savage growls, squalls
of pain. And then the crashing rattle of stones, as a
heavy body plunged down the mountain side.
"She had driven the tiger over the cliff,
"In a moment she was back to Harr Garr. She took
his body up in her arms again. But she did not forget
the fire, but presently rose to gather sticks for it again.
"And then she came into the cave with a flaming pine-
knot in either hand. The cave-men cowered back from
her, shivering and mouthing in terror. With dauntless
courage, she flourished her torches and shot jabbering
clicks and grunts at the men, until she got three or four
of the younger savages to hurl themselves upon Kog.
"The young bucks fought with a good heart — ^they
hated the old bully cordially enough — and she helped
with her firebrands. In a few minutes he was driven
out of the cavern, broken and terrified.
"Then Tol-ga, with the authority the blazing pine-
knots gave her, superintended the efforts of a half-dozen
cave-men who lifted the boulder from Harr Garr's feet.
No bones had been broken ; and with the amazing vitality
of his race, he seemed as well as ever in a day or two.
"Kog had been driven from the cavern, but he was
back in a short time, with his females gathered around
him, at his old bullying habits once more. He seemed to
have learned a lesson, at first, and left Tol-ga and Harr
Garr severely alone. But his brutish mind soon forgot.
"Tol-ga and Harr Garr kept the fire burning before
the cave. The tribe soon realized the value of it as pro-
tection from wild animals, and for warmth on stormy
nights. The art of cooking—or at least of broiling
meat— was soon discovered. And an attempt to cook
something in ^ woven basket water-proofed with a lining
of clay resulted in a rude pottery vessel — ^the beginning
of the ceramic art. When Tol-ga mastered fire on that
night before the cave, she made the first step of her
race on the long road to civilization,
"As keepers and masters of the fire, the young couple
soon enjoyed a prominence quite unprecedented for
those of their age. Kog grew -insanely jealous of Harr
Garr. A few months later he made a desperate and
treacherous ■ assault upon Tol-ga, armed with a jagged
stone.
"Harr Garr had just started on a hunting trip.
"With her mental quickness, the girl escaped old Kog,
provoked him to throw his stone, and dodged it. She
got past him to the fire, and with a blazing stick kept him
at bay until her calls had brought Harr Garr back on
the run^ — Kog had not had self-control to wait until the
young hunter was beyond hearing distance.
sf^-j^HERE, on the wide ledge before the cavern, the
A of them fought the final battle for mastery of
the tribe. Kog, having flung his stone, was armed only
with fang and claw. Harr Garr carried a wooden spear,
the end shaped and sharply pointed. As they dosed, he
caught Kog in the abdomen with that crude w^eapon.
Though the old bully carried the young hunter to the
ground, he died of the wound before his superior strength
could be turned to account.
"Thus Harr Garr and Tol-ga became rulers of "The-
People-of-the-Mountain/’ and brought them the blessings
of fire — in very much the same way that fire must have
come to our world. When I last saw Tol-ga she was
nursing a pink little infant.
"It must have been three or four years, as time goes
in that other world, that I lived in the great cave. Twice,
in those long years, I was wounded, once in an encounter
with a pterodactyl, another time in a battle with a tiger.
On both occasions Harr Garr saved me at the risk of Hs
own life, I came to feel a real friendship for him,
savage that he is.
It is only a few minutes ago that Harr Garr and I
were hunting in the forest, stalking a shaggy little pre-
historic horse that we were trying to capture. I was
standing there in a little glade in the lush green jungle,
silent and tense with the excitement of the hunt. Then
a dizzy sensation of reeling, falling. And the next m@-
ment I was standing on the red crystal, looking at you.
Do vou wonder that I was amazed
And the bronzed giant straightened in his seat on the
bed, fingering the tawny striped tiger skin about his
waist. Blue eyes gleamed restlessly above an unkept
beard as he said,
"And you know, Stewart, Fm going back to that world
in the star
by Richard Rush Murray
/ 'N this story we have a sequel to the previous story ^^Radtcaliie/^ Here a
great invention is used for interstellar trav^eling. An interesting discussion of
the momentum of a mass as applied to space-travel brings some very impressive
conclusions.
Illustrated by MOREY
HATRE yoti doing to-night, Dick?"^
m /m / speaker was a friend of mine,
m/ m/ Ereddy Hale, with whom I had gradii-
^ ^ ated from' Harrard the preceding
year. He was of meditam height and
build, and extremely good-looking in his dress-suit and
tall black opera hat.
^'Oh, I guess 111 have to go to Claire's coming-out bail
at the Ritz/^ I replied, wearily. I, too, was in full dress.
about ready to quit, Freddy ; Tve been up until day-
light every night this week. It's killing me by inches
'Well, 111 probably drop in at the Ritz later on in the
evening, with Leila. We're going to the Robinson's
dance first, and then the MarshalFs ; well most likely be
at your place in time to go to supper.”
My sister Claire was being “presented to society” that
evening at a huge ball at the Ritz- Carlton, and my brother
John and I must perforce be there. We were both ushers
on the floor committee.
Everything went off very welL Over two thousand
people were present. While I was dancing with my
fiancee, Peggy McClanahan, I suddenly felt a tap on the
shoulder. Turning disgustedly, for I supposed someone
was cutting in, I beheld my brother, John, 'grinning mys-
teriously at us.
“Come along, you two,” he commanded. “Mother and
Dad want to see you outside.”
We followed Mm and passed out through the door-
way into the large hallway at the head of the stairs, to
the place where my sister and parents were still . receiv-
ing guests. As my gaze strayed to a slender, erect figure
standing beside Claire, my heart leaped; surely I knew
ffiat face! Claire smiled.
“Baron von Sturmfeld, I want to introduce my
brother, Richard.”
“My friend!” The slender figure stepped forward
and grasped me by the hand. “Little introduction do I
need to the man who so bravely saved my life last sum-
mer at the risk of his own. It is good to see you !”
“What are you doing in this country, Baron, and how
do you happen to be here tonight ?” I exclaimed, I had
believed him four thousand miles away, in distant Berlin.
“Easily accounted for,” von Sturmfeld smiled in re-
ply.”- I came to this country to make you a business
proposition, arriving to-day on the ^Mauretanid from
Southampton, I called at your house this evening, only
to find that you had left. They suggested that I come
here, so, after having changed my clothes, I took a cab
and arrived a few minutes ago. If you can spare me a
few moments, I have something to say which I feel sure
will be of interest to you.”
When I had introduced him to Peggy, I turned to
John, who was -at my elbow.
“Johnny,” I asked him, “will you take care of Peggy ?
I must talk to Baron von Sturmfeld for a few moments.
You won't mind, Peggy?”
“Of course not, dear,” she smiled. “Only don't be
too long, and be sure to tel! me all about it.”
Von Sturmfeld and I entered an elevator and were
carried to a private reception, room which had been
placed at the disposal of the guests that evening. In it
we could order drinks at leisure and find seats in some
corner where we could converse without being overheard,
“Well, how have you occupied yourself since last sum-
mer, my young friend ?” asked the Baron, as we lighted
cigars.
“With nothing at all,” I replied, a tinge of disgust in
my voice. “There’ ve been no jobs open this winter, and,
while my father can well afford to support me, Fd vastly
prefer earning my own living. A continual round of
debutantes' coming-out parties, with their idiotic girls
and moronic men, has begun to get on my nerves !”
“How would you like to throw your fortunes in with
me in an adventure so thrilling and glorious, that the
entire world will hail us as heroes ?”
“Very much,” I replied, thinking he was joking, “but
such things don't happen any more in this modern age.”
“On the contrary, if all goes well, they will happen to
you and me in the very near future. Listen carefully;
I will explain.
“You will undoubtedly recall the story I told you last
autumn, on that fateful day in September, when you
saved my life; of the part I played in the explosion of
the ammonium nitrate plant of the 'Badische Anilin und
Soda Fabrik' at Oppau, near Mannheim. Of the dis-
coveries made by my friend Hermann Kriig during his
experiments with the action upon compressed ammonia
gas of the cathode ray discharge, and of how we planned
1122
1121
1124
AMAZING STORIES
to revolutionize the sulphuric acid industry with our new
catalytic substitute for platinmn, a metallic form of the
ammonium radical which he named ^Radicalite\ You
will also remember how I told you of the frightful ex»
plosion that occurred while I was in Mannheim; an ex-
plosion which utterly obliterated the 'Badische' plants
most of the town of Oppau^ and my friend^ Kriig/^
should say I do, sir!’^ I explained.
‘T am glad of that,” commented von Sturmfeld. ''To
continue; during the time elapsed since we last met I
have been experimenting once more with 'Radicaliteb
and have obtained some very tangible results.
'To begin with, my cathode ray generator is vastly
improved. It is smaller and more concentrated than the
one Kriig constructed. In it I am using a potential of
10, OCX), 000 volts, in place of the 1,500,000 used previous-
ly. The cathode radiation discharge resulting there-
from will kill a man at a distance of a mile and a half,
and will set fire to buildings half a mile away.
"Secondly, I no longer use compressed ammonia gas,
NH3, but, instead, the well known compound of ammonia
and chlorine, ammonium chloride, NH 4 CL I have
found that this substance wdll, when heated to a certain
point and simultaneously subjected to the action of the
cathode discharge, be broken down to the metallic radical
NH 4 and gaseous chlorine CI 2 . The reaction is thus,
2 ( NH 4 ) Cl+Cathode Discharge— 2 ( NH^ ) + CI 2
"This possibility eliminates the bothersome compres-
sor and glass globe so necessary in the previous experi-
ment.
"I have made quite a little wealth during the year,
through the sale of metallic radicalite as a catalyst in the
contact process of sulphuric acid manufacture. As -a re-
sult, I am now about to take a step in a totally different
direction.
"An important point to recall at this point is the prop-
erty exhibited by radicalite of breaking down, when an
electric current is passed through it. The speed of dis-
solution is controlled, of course, by the strength of the
current, and may be varied from comparative slowness
to explosive violence. At the slower rates of break-
down it is resolved into its component gases, nitrogen
and hydrogen, which are produced in enormous volumes,
but when instantaneous decomposition occurs, all matter
contained in it disappears in a terrific flash of energy.
Such, I believe, was the cause when my friend, Hermann
Kriig, was lost in the explosion at Oppaii, ten years ago.
So far I have been unable to make use of this latter
property, due to its terrifically destructive potentialities.
"If properly controlled, radicalite is an ideal fuel for
a reaction motor. This makes possible a mode of travel
which, if developed, will supersede all other forms of
aerial propulsion.
"Nearly everyone knows that the American Astrophy-
sics Society has had for several years a standing offer of
a. hundred thousand dollars in prize money, to be
awarded the first man succeeding in propelling a flying
machine from New York across the Atlantic, or vice
versa^ under reaction power. They know that from such
a trip to a similar one around the world is but a short
step, and that an interplanetary flight will soon follow.
"I have come to you partly because you saved my life
and partly because I consider you a good companion to
work with. Each of us can command sufficient finan-
cial resources to share the expenses equally, of course.
Should we succeed, our names will be emblazoned with
glory upon the roster of the world's greatest explorers
and pioneers. What say you, my friend? Will you join
me in this enterprise?”
I sprang to my feet.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world, sir! Certainly Fll
join you; I can't thank you enough for asking me!”
Baron von Sturmfeld smiled at my enthusiasm, as he
ordered a waiter to bring champagne.
"Let us drink to the success of our venture, my boy.”
We clinked the tall goblets of sparkling, amber-colored
wine and drained them with a toss.
"We leave on the ^Bremen' at noon to-morrow; your
passport of last summer is still valid, and it will be simple
to arrange for accommodations. Mine are already
taken.”
A day later I found myself in one of the spacious pas-
sengers' salons of the ^^Bremen/^ seated across from von
Strumfeld. A large pale of plans, drawings, and specifi-
cations lay before us.
"What do you intend to use as a source of the electric
current needed for decomposing the radicalite?” I asked.
"Let me show you the results of my recent work.”
He shuffled the papers around, extracting one covered
with figures.
"We'll go back to our physics again. It is a well
known theory that as a substance approaches the abso-
lute zero, — ^273® Centigrade, its resistance to the pas-
sage of electricity diminishes in direct ratio in a manner
similar to the lessened volume of a gas under similar
conditions. You remember Charles' law: The volume
assumed by a gas at different temperatures, the pressure
remaining constant, is directly proportional to the cor-
responding absolute temperatures,'
"Theoretically, if the absolute zero were reached, the
volume of the gas would become zero and it would dis-
appear; practically, of course, it would become a liquid,
or even a solid, some time before the zero point was
attained.
"Now, all indications are that as a metal approaches
zero, its conductance becomes greater, approaching in-
finity as the final point is reached. Experiments have
been performed, at the temperature of“ liquid helium,
— 268.8® C., in which a ring of lead wire, cooled to this
temperature, was made the secondary of an electrical
transformer system. Enormous currents of electricity,
induced in it, produced not the slightest sign of heating,
evidencing its almost total lack of resistance. Hours
later these currents were still circulating.
"However, I have investigated the properties of a
different element under similar conditions, namely,
helium itself. As you may remember, this gas has played
a most interesting part in the history of chemistry. Dis-
covered originally by Sir Norman Lockyer as a new
spectral line in the sun, during the solar eclipse of 1868,
and named 'helium' from the Greek word 'helios' (the
sun), it was for a long time believed to be non-existent
upon earth. In 1895, however, Ramsey identified it with
an inactive gas given off when uranium ores were heated
in a vacuum. It is now obtained chiefly by compression
and fractionation of natural gas from wells in certain
parts of the United States.
"Before reaching the pertinent part of this somewhat
dry scientific discourse I want to point out to you some
highly interesting facts concerning helium. Its atomic
weight is 4, making it twice as dense as hydrogen, and
its valence is zero ; thus it enters into combination with
no other element. With other elements which have an
affinity for each other, the tendency is for the outer
STELLARITE
orbits to exchange electrons, thus forming one molecule
of a chemical compound. But in helium these electrons
seem to be fixed ; the atom has no tendency either to gain
or lose, and thus it enters into no known compound.
‘^Onnes has cooled the gas to the lowest temperature
heretofore known to man, — 272.18° Centrigrade. At
268.8° it became a liquid, but failed to solidify at a
lower temperature, leading Onnes to believe that it would
remain a liquid even at the absolute zero, —272°. In
1926, however, Keesom succeeded in solidifying helium
at a temperature of —271.9° by subjecting it to a pres-
sure of t^venty-six atmospheres, Onnes' opinion is that
at normal pressure it may still remain a liquid at abso-
lute zero.
is mistaken ! During the last year, since the time
you and I so fortunately met on the Unter den Linden
in Berlin, I have devoted much time to intensive research
and experimentation along these lines. I have employed
a compressor and a liquifier of my own design, that
are considerably in advance of others in use to-day, and
have succeeded in obtaining the ultimate point, —273°.
At — ^272.98° solidification commences, and at — 273°
it is complete. This, of course, is with normal atmos-
phere pressure.
^^This solid helium is the metal we will use in our
electric accumulator system. I have reasons for believ-
ing that its resistance is nil, and that it forms a perfect
conductor for electricity, with an infinite current carry-
ing capacity,
'^But enough of this for the present; we are to go
from Hamburg, our landing port, to my estate near
Manheim, where my experimental laboratories are lo-
cated. It is in tlie heart of Germany's industrial region ;
we will thus be enabled to accomplish everything with
the building of the ship. Here also we will have at our
beck and call all the best chemists and engineers of the
greatest industrial plants of the Fatherland."
^ ^
It was a week later. The Baron had completed the
process of setting up the necessary shops, and had en-
gaged engineers, mechanics, and workmen. The chemical
and physical research laboratory staff had been aug-
mented, and a new compressor and liquifier of von
Sturmfeld's own design installed. All was in readiness
for the final manufacture and testing of solid helium.
The apparatus consisted of a compressor, which re-
duced the volume of the helium, and a liquifier, greatly
modified as compared with those of ordinary commer-
cial use, in which the highly compressed gas was liqui-
fied. In it, very much refined, was used the familiar
principle of cooling by expansion. The compressed
helium, allowed to expand, absorbed the heat from a
small portion which remained unexpanded. This
process, repeated several times, resulted in the final
liquefaction of the gas, at a temperature of —268.8°
Centigrade.
^^Now," said von Sturmfeld, “my principle of solidifi-
cation is this : I allow part of the liquid helium to evapo-
rate and thus remove more heat from that remaining.
When this has been done three times, in my improved
liquifier, the remaining portion solidifies. I will show
you now." He led the way to the compressor room.
Manipulating several valves on the cylinders of the
liquifier, he unscrewed a port on the bottom of the last
one. As it dropped, I exclaimed aloud, partly in wonder
and partly in fear.
Around the cylinder was a strong blue glow, a glow
1125
that reminded me of the deep blue of the sky after sun-
set on a cold, wintry day. In. it was all the essence of
the cold that passes understanding, the congealing,
withering lack of heat that only outer space experiences.
I felt a wave of chilled air strike through me to the bone.
^Well, my boy, here it is !” exclaimed the Baron, hold-
ing up to my gaze a ring of bluish metal that shone with
a cold, glittering light. “Behold metallic helium, the last
link in the chain! We need but to produce a quantity
of this, manufacture a supply of radicalite, and build
the actual ship. See, it does not evaporate,"
True enough, the luminous metal remained as it had
been removed from the liquifier, with no visible diminu-
tion. Von Sturmfeld held it with a long pair of tongs,
as its intense degree of cold would have frozen his
fingers to brittleness if they had touched it.
“Why doesn't it melt the way other solidified gases
do?" I asked.
“I know no more than you," was the astonishing an-
swer. “Ordinarily any solidified gas would melt when
the surrounding temperature was at or above its point
of fusion, and then, as it reached its critical evaporation
point, pass off as a gas. In this case, however, I believe
that the atomic structure has been definitely changed* re-
sulting in a crowding-in of the planetary electrons around
the ceiitrah nucleus. The effect of this seems to cause
the heat virhich it receives from its surroundings to be
thrown off again as blue light, rather than absorbed.
“Continuing on these premises, I believe it is the con-
ductor we have sought. It remains at a temperature of
—273®, and should therefore have no resistance at all
We will learn whether or not the latter is true, now!"
As the metal was quite soft, it was easy to cut off a
thin shaving with a hacksaw. This shaving von Sturm-
feld damped between two huge terminals on a power
testing panel, explaining that by a special arrangement
with the local power company he had available 11,000
volts at 3, OCX) amperes, the power resulting therefrom
being the huge amount of 33, (WO kilovolt-amperes.
“This will tell us whether our dreams are based on
fact of fancy," the Baron commented, as he reached for
an oil switch.
A blinding arc of flame dazzled me, as a shower of
globules of molten copper made us jump back in dismay.
A circuit breaker on the pane! tripped with a thunderous
clatter, as the terrific line surge caused by the short
passed through it. The needle of the ammeter Jumped
off scale and then dropped back, the wire burned out,
but there, standing up beneath the enormous load with
never a flicker, was the shining blue strip of metai
“Well, my boy, for the next few months you can
settle down to some hard work with me, designing a
ship in which to use our new power supply."
^ ^ ^ ^
Three months later Baron von Sturmfeld and I, with
our corps of assistant engineers and mechanics, viewed
with satisfaction the ship which our combined efforts
had designed and brought into being. One hundred and
twenty feet long by thirty in diameter, its silvery shining
hull gleamed in the sunshine of the German spring.
Outside the enclosure a vast crowd of people had gath-
ered, townsfolk, country people, and reporters from
newspapers of all nations. Such an enterprise as ours
was impossible to keep secret, and the newspapers had
featured the “Mannheim Folly" almost from the day
we placed our first order with the Oppau steel mills.
Most of the American papers were giving us the “royal
1126 AMAZING
razz/^ claiming that the ship was foredoomed a failure
because its ^'alleged’^ theory of operation violated all the
principles of established science. Von Strumfeld only
smiled at such reports.
As v/e were about to climb the ladder leading to the
port that gave access to the ship's pilot room, I suddenly
remembered that we had not given it a name. I re-
minded von Sturmfeld.
“Let us call it the Stellarite. Do we not intend to take
a trip into interstellar space after our trial trips prove
her a success ?"
“That's a grand name/' I replied, enthusiastically.
“Why not, indeed? Some day, with good luck attend-
ing, she will in truth soar away from this earth to the
stars/'
A bottle of champagne was procured; breaking it
across the bow reaction tube, von Sturmfeld cried in a
loud voice,
“I christen you Stellarite, may you carry us ever in
safety through the starry firmaments V*
The crowd cheered, and as we were again about to
ascend the ladder, a tall figure detached itself from the
throng, eluded the guard the Baron had set, leaped the
fence, and approach us at a run. He was young, freckle-
faced, and red headed ; in one hand he held a reporter's
note-book.
“I know it's extremely irregular, intruding in this
fashion," he exclaimed in faultless German. “Could you
use a good reporter on the trip, to give the details to the
New York papers? I represent the ^Dispatch\ and you
know a reliable witness is always an asset to a good story.
Will you take me as a passenger?"
Von Sturmfeld and I looked at each other, and then
laughed simultaneously. I think we were both taken by
the engaging frankness of the youngster.
“Do you realize you may lose your life?"
The reporter laughed.
“What's the difference? I should worry what hap-
pens to me, as long as it's an adventure/'
Von Sturmfeld nodded approvingly.
“You may accompany us, young man; I like your
spirit. It has occurred to me that it might be well to
have with us a reliable witness, as you stated a moment
ago. We leave at once/'
So saying, he ascended the ladder and entered the con-
trol room, the reporter, whose name on his credentials
appeared as William Campbell, followed suit, while I
brought up the rear. The outer port opened upon an air-
lock chamber, which in turn gave upon the pilot room
proper, by means of another port. This, von Sturm-
feld and I had decided, was provided against the time
when we should take the ship upon a trip beyond the
confines of the terrestrial atmosphere.
“I'm glad I managed to get aboard in safety!" Camp-
bell exclaimed, suddenly. “There was a pretty rough-
looking chap trailing me, and I just managed to shake
him off as I got here. I overheard him and another
tough 'bozo' making plans to stieak aboard this ship
before you left! I guess they thought you wouldn't be
leaving until to-morrow. Look, there he is in the crowd,
up against the fence!"
We glanced out through the glass-enclosed side of the
pilot rooiiij to the place Campbell pointed to. Leaning
over the fence and shaking his fist tom’'ard us was a
towering, black-headed giant of a fellow. Von Strum-
feld exclaimed :
“That's Hans Barendt, the Communist leader! A
STORIES
good thing he miscalculated our time of departure. I
have blocked him in the Reichstag many times, when he
has proposed some hare-brained radical measure, and he
hates me bitterly. Had he obtained access to the Stel-
larite I fear we would not now be leaving for New
York !"
As he spoke he depressed several buttons on the reac-
tion motor panel. Immediately I felt the deck pressing
against my feet, and as I glanced out the side could see
the ground dropping away.
“Take note of the time," the Baron bade me. Obey-
ing, I looked at my watch. It was just nine o'clock; ac-
cording to New York time, six hours earlier, it was still
three o'clock in the morning.
“How long will it take us to reach America?" I asked.
“Well," he replied, “with the enormous power we
have in reserve we could easily attain a velocity of eight
hundred thousand miles an hour, were it not for the fact
that such a speed is unthinkable in close proximity to
the earth. If we speed along at two thousand, we will
reach the States in two hours, or about five o'clock.
Thus the Stellarite will cross the daybreak line and land
in darkness."
Already the sky was taking on a deep blue-black hue,
as we gained In altitude. Even now we were at a greatei
height than ever attained by man ; seventy thousand feet
the barograph registered. Von Sturmfeld intended to
rise until the atmosphere was sufficiently thin for its re
sistance to be negligible; the effect of air would be to
reduce the speed and the ship would heat badly.
The Stellarite was now passing over England^ heading
for the broad Atlantic Ocean. Soon we were fifty miles
over the earth's surface ; the British Isles were tiny green
gems set in a sea of indigo blue. The earth already
presented a convex appearance, seeming like a vash mist-
covered ball.
As we gazed in the other direction, from the opposite
side of the pilot cabin, we could see that the sun was
sinking eastward. Soon it would be below the horizon
and we would be landing in New York, apparently ahead
of the time we started. It was a strange and unforget-
table sight, and one that would linger long in my
memory. Man had flouted the laws of nature many
times, but never in so spectacular a fashion as this.
“Mr. MacCleod, please call America on the radio
transmitter and inform them we have covered more than
half the distance." This from the Baron.
Opening the radio cabinet on the right-hand side of
the control panel, I closed the switches that placed the
short wave transmitter in operation and called the high-
powered station at Marion, Massachusetts. Not imme-
diately receiving an answer, I repeated the call in code,
and signed it “Rocketship Stellarite
This time a reply was not long in forthcoming. The
return signal fairly pounded in, as the operator excitedly
demanded our location, destination, speed of flight, and
a thousand and one other details,
I told him we were in mid- Atlantic, and gave him all
the other information I could think of. He said that
another operator was flashing the news to New York,
and that we would be met by a fleet of Army and Navy
planes that would serve as an escort of honor to Roose-
velt Field, Long Island, where a landing place had been
prepared. Adding that since the Stellarite would land in
darkness ail searchlights in the vicinity of New York
would be turned on the sky, including those of several
battleships at anchor in the Hudson River, he signed off.
STELLARITE
Now the sun had sunk completely. Although a strong
glare of refracted light still suffused the eastern horizon ;
it was black night all around us, and overhead the stars
shone with a brilliancy incomparable.
The hour flew by quickly. Campbell, who had been
gazing entranced from the window, exclaimed suddenly
and called us to him.
''See! the searchlights!^’ he pointed, far ahead on the
horizon.
Sweeping the clouds could be seen tiny points and fin-
gers of pale white light. Acting immediately, Baron von
Sturm f eld depressed two of the controls ; the bow of the
ship sank in a long dive. Soon I could hear the whistle
and shriek of the wind as the Stellarite tore through the
upper reaches of the atmosphere, a shriek that became a
prolonged roar as the denser strata were reached.
All at once we were in the midst of a group of planes.
Our own searchlight bathed several in Its radiance, and
I could see the Army and Navy insignias emblazoned
upon them. The planes, dove, the Baron following suit,
and soon, when we had completely penetrated the cloud
bank overhanging New York, I could see the far-flung
lights of the great city itself. To the eastward, some dis-
tance our side of Brooklyn and Jamaica, was a square
patch of brightly lighted ground I knew to be Roose-
velt Field, and in a few seconds more the Stellarite hz&
glided the length of the field and come to a rest before
an enormous hangar.
Although the sun had not yet risen, a huge multitude
of people had collected. The field fairly swarmed with
them, and, as we emerged from the Stellarite, made a
mad rush for us, shouting and cheering at the top of
their lungs. By dint of much swinging of billies and
threats of violence, the squad of police on hand finally
cleared a way to the car that waited to carry us to New
York. -
The two weeks that followed were a repetition, on a
wilder and stormier scale, of the welcomes accorded
Lindbergh, Byrd, and early famous trans- Atlantic flyers.
Paraded up Broadway from the Battery to City Hall
Park amid clouds of ticker tape, confetti, torn-up tele-
phone directories, and what not, we were greeted by an
effusive and somewhat longwinded oration by the Mayor.
After that it was one reception, presentation of medals
or awards, and one public appearance after another, and
at last it commenced to pall upon us.
One morning, after we had waked up with eyes red
and heads splitting as the result of big doings the pre-
vious night, von Strumfeld turned to me with a grimace.
"My friend, I suggest we remove ourselves from this
scene of turmoil and take another trip. What do you
say I rolled over in bed, wide awake upon the instant.
"That's just what I was thinking, sir. This infernal
round is beginning to 'give me a pain', as the saying goes.
Where will we go?"
"Well, we might make a trip around the earth, or per-
haps to the moon. The Stellarite can easily be fueled for
such a journey."
Needlessly to say, I enthusiastically agreed. The news
was received by the family with silent despair, however ;
already they had given me up for lost once before.
"Why can't you two be content to stay dowm on earth,
Baron?" asked my sister, Claire. "I know that what
you seek is the glory, but, after all, aren't your lives
more precious than mere fame.
"It depends entirely upon the point of view, Miss
MacCleod," replied von Sturmfeld. "As I look upon it.
we are here to-day and gone to-morrow; we might just
as well die soon as late. I am an incorrigible seeker of
adventure, as I believe your brother to be; perhaps we
hold the honor of achievement above the mere value of
our lives."
The newspapers came out with shrieking headlines
the moment our plan was announced. Most of them
condemned us roundly as a pair of crack-brained idiots
who would lose their lives and be forgotten. Little time
did von Sturmfeld and I waste in trouble over such
comparative trifles, confronted as we were with the ter-
rific problem of coordinating all the factors of our pro-
posed undertaking.
It was decided that the Stellarite would circle the
moon, a trip within reason for a first effort. Bill Camp-
bell was to accompany us in the capacity of reporter, giv-
ing his account of the trip to his paper upon his return.
Cylinders of liquid air, prevented from evaporation by
solidified helium, were placed aboard, as were stores of
calcium oxide for the absorption of the carbon dioxide
exhaled by the occupants of the ship. A stock of de-
hydrated foods ^vas placed in the storage compartments
against any emergency that might arise. The amount of
current drawn from the bank of helium accumulators on
the flight from Mannheim was replaced, and the other
units completely checked. It was a week before we were
at last ready to take off.
Countless thousands of people were milling around
Roosevelt Field as final preparations were being made.
We entered, slamming shut and bolting the outer and
inner portals of the airlock. As the Baron stepped to the
controls, I adjusted the short wave receiver to W2XAD,
the 19 meter short wave broadcasting station operated
in conjunction with WGY by the General Electric Com-
pany at Schenectady, New York. Abruptly the voice of
the announcer on the field without filled the tiny space.
"The aspirants for the glory of being the first as-
tronauts, Baron Ferdinand von Sturmfeld, Richard Mac-
Cleod, and William Campbell, are about to set forth upon
their perilous journey to the moon. If they are fortu-
nate enough to arrive in safety, they will explode a giant
charge of magnesium flash powder for the benefit of
astronomers on earth. Wait I they are taking off now !"
Even as he spoke, the Baron's hand moved, I heard
the roar of the radicalite exhaust, and saw the field with
its countless throng drop away beneath us. Another
moment found us comfortably ensconced in our seats in
the pilot room. Von Sturmfeld instructed Campbell and
me to strap ourselves to our chairs. He did likewise, as
the Stellarite soared into the clouds on what was to prove
a long, eventful, and perilous voyage.
At first it was merely a repetition of the departure
from Mannheim. Rising into a blue sky mottled here
and there with patches of fleecy white cumulus clouds,
the Stellarite ascended rapidly until the deflection of
the barograph needle and the gradual darkening of the
heavens indicated that once again we were leaving the
terrestrial atmosphere. Here and there the stars shone
out, while around the sun could be seen a slowly in-
creasing halo of silvery coronal streamers.
The voice of the announcer at W2XAD commenced
to fade in-and-out with a peculiar frequency, while
sharp bursts of static marred the tone quality. Camp-
bell commented on this to the Baron.
"It is possible that the Stellarite Is now passing
through the so-called 'Heavy side Layer,' the reflecting
medium of ionized air that is supposed to exist in the
1128
AMAZING STOPilES
upper layers of the atmosphere. It will be but a short
time before we leave it behind entirely^ together with
all other things of earth.”
Blackness now surrounded us on every side, black-
ness of a velvety thickness the like of which I had never
even imagined. It was shot through with a million
glittering diamond points of silver, that shone with a
hard, gleaming luster defying description. Far around
us stretched unimaginably distant reaches of infinity,
reaches that seemed the epitome of chill, awe-inspiring
immensity. Ahead of us lay the dazzlingly yellow-
white hemisphere of the moon, while off to the left was
the mysterious, glowing sun.
Communication was again clear, the static and fading
having disappeared entirely, I called \V2XAD, which
was keeping a constant watch on our frequency, telling
him that we were now more than five hundred miles
from the earth. He said he would announce it to the
world immediately.
''Baron/' spoke up Campbell from the seat where
he had .had his eyes glued to the port, "tell me some-
thing about the sun. How hot is it, and what keeps it
going?''
"Well/' replied von Strumfeld, thoughtfully, "the
answer to your question covers quite a lot of ground.
However, I will try to explain it to you as simply as
possible. Are you familiar with elementary physics and
chemistry?”,
"I took both subjects as part of my freshman and
sophomore years in college,” Bill smiled.
"Good, then you should know enough to follow me
intelligently. A description of the modern theory of
atomic structure is, perhaps, the best basis of an explana-
tion of the sun's radiation.
"As you know, the simplest atom known is that of
hydrogen. It consists of a central proton, as nucleus,
with one electron revolving around it. The nucleus,
with nearly 1840 times the weight of the electron, re-
mains practically at rest, undisturbed by the motion of
the latter. The nucleus and electron carry charges of
positive and negative electricity, respectively, and there-
fore attract each other, which explains why the electron
remains in a fixed orbit instead of flying off at a tangent.
The attraction between electric charges of opposite sign
follows exactly the same laws as gravitation, falling off
as the inverse square of the distance between them.
"All orbits, whether ellipitical or circular, which have
the same diameter have also the same energy, but the
latter changes when an electron jumps from any orbit
to another of a different diameter. If radiation of the
proper wave-length is poured into an atom in which the
electron is describing the smallest orbit of all, it crosses
over to the next, absorbing 16X10-^^ ergs of energy in
the process and thus becoming temporarily a reservoir
of that much energy. If it is in any way disturbed by
outside influences, it may discharge the energy at any
time, or it may absorb still more and so increase its
store.
"The electron orbits in more complicated atoms have
much the same configuration as the hydrogen atom, but
are of different size. In the former the electron nor-
mally falls, after sufficient time, to the orbit of lowest
energy and stays there. One might think that, by a
similar process of reasoning, the electrons in a more
complicated atom would in time also fall into the orbit
of lowest energfv and remain there. Such is not the
case, as there is never room for more than one electron
in the same orbit.
"These orbits are known, somewhat misleadingly, as
rings of electrons. They are designated as the K ring,
the L ring, the M ring, and so forth. The K ring,
nearest the nucleus, has room for but two electrons.
Any further electrons are pushed out into the L ring,
which has room for the eight electrons. If there are
more yet, they go into the M ring, and likewise with
others, if these be present.
"In its normal state, the hydrogen atom has one elec-
tron in its K ring, while the helium atom has two, the L,
M, and higher rings being unoccupied. The most com-
plex atom, that of lithium, has three electrons, and as
its K ring can only hold two, the third must perforce
enter the outer spaces of the L ring. Other atoms of
increasing complexity behave similarly, filling succeeding
rings. Provided the electrons are not excited by radia-
tion or other stimulus, each atom in time sinks to a
point in which its electrons are occupying orbits of
lowest energy, one in each.
"Early in 1907 Emden calculated that the central
temperature of the sun would be in the neighborhood
of 31,500,000 degrees centigrade. Later and more
refined calculations by Eddington closely approximated
this, while some still later ones of Jeans' gave the sub-
stantially higher figure of 55,000,000 degrees. The di-
versity of these figures indicate the difficulties attendant
on calculations of this sort, but for the purpose of
illustration we will assume that a temperature of 50,-
000,000 degrees exists at the center of the solar orb.
Heat only flows from a hotter to a cooler place, and
a vigorous flow of heat is indicative of a steeply ascend-
ing temperature gradient. The temperature must rise
sharply as we pass from the sun's surface towards its
center, and this rise, continued along the whole 433,000
miles to the center, must eventually result in an ex-
ceedingly high maximum temperature.
"This calculated central temperature so far tran-
scends the experience of beings like you or me, that
we can scarcely realize what it means. Assume, in your
imagination, a cubic millimeter of ordinary matter, a
piece the size of a pinhead, maintained at a temperature
of 50,000,000 degrees. Incredible as it may seem,
merely to continue this pinhead of matter at such a
temperature — i. e. to replenish the energy it loses by
radiation from its six faces— will need all the energy
generated by an engine of three thousand million horse-
power. This pinhead of matter will emit enough heat
to kill anyone venturing within a thousand miles of it.
"Such a temperature would strip all the electrons off
the atoms down to their K rings, but these would re-
main intact. It needs even higher temperatures to
strip the K ring from the nucleus of an atom. As we
pass outward to the sun's surface we come to lower
temperatures, at which the atoms are less completely
broken up, and finally, at the surface, we may find
atoms which have lost but one or two of their outer
electrons.
"Now we arrive at the actual point of our discussion,
the cause of the continuance of the sun's radiation.
Electrons and protons raised to such temperatures have
been found to have a tendency to rush together and an-
nihilate each other, setting their energy free in space
as radiation. Einstein's theory of relativity provides
a means for calculating the amount of energy produced
by the annihilation of any given amount of matter; it
STELLARITE
1129
shows that the energy set free is at the rate of 9x10^^
ergs per grain,, regardless of the nature or condition
of material annihilated. This shows us that the sun
loses 300j0(X),000,000 tons of weight every day in
radiation.
^^The amount of energy set free by the annihilation
of matter is rather surprising; it is of an entirely dif-
ferent order of magnitude than any with which we are
familiar. A ton of coal liberates about 5X10^® ergs of
energy^ while the annihilation of the matter in that ton
of coal would liberate 9X10^® ergs, or about 18,000,-
000,000 times as much. If we on earth could burn our
coal as completely as this, a piece the size of a pea
would run the Mauretama across the Atlantic and back.
^ ^Recent investigations in mathematical physics indi-
cate that the highly penetrating radiation, received on
earth, had its origin in the annihilation of matter in
outer space. The amount received of this radiation is
so great that we formerly supposed the underlying
annihilation of matter to be one of the fundamental
processes of the universe. We now learn that it is
in all probability the process which keeps the stars and
the sun shining and the universe alive,”
^Wou certainly make matters clear, sir/' exclaimed
Campbell admiringly, as Baron von Sturmfeld paused.
^^The sun always has been a deep mystery to me, not-
withstanding my studies in physics.'*
At this moment I accidentally struck with my hand
the pencil with which I had jotted down the figures
enumerated by the Baron. What was my amazement
and consternation to see it spin off into the air and sink
very gradually to the floor, instead of falling in a
normal fashion ! V on Sturfeld observed my aston-
ished air with amusement.
^^We are approaching the line of demarcation be-
tween Earth and Moon, the point where the gravita-
tional fields of the two exactly counterbalance one
another,” he told me. ^‘Soon we will have no weight
at alL Come, let us see where we are,” snapping out
the light in the ceiling of the control room.
I gasped at the scene that lay before us. Dead ahead
was the half disk of the moon, enormous and yellow,
and filling a huge expanse of the velvety black heavens.
The terminator line, dividing the regions of daylight
and darkness, lay stretched in a glittering line of moun-
tain peaks that thrust themselves up from the surround-
ing blackness into the last rays of the setting sun. Deep
and mysterious lay the valleys of shadow that were be-
tween them.
Suddenly there came a click from the loud speaker
a-top the control panel, and a voice boomed out.
''Space flyer Stellarite, W2XAD calling. Is all well
with you? You have not communicated with us for
several hours.”
As von Sturmfeld reached for the microphone with
one hand and snapped the transmitter into action with
the other I could not help marveling at the wonderful
ease of communication with the earth.
"Station W2XAD, Space Flyer Stella-rife calling.
How do you receive us?”
"Thunderous volume,” came back the answer. It
was interesting to note the time lag of almost two sec-
onds in his reply, due to the 160,000 miles of space
separating the two stations. "No fading or swinging;
seems almost as if you were a nearby broadcasting
station. Where are you, and how much longer will it
take you to reach the moon's surface? All the world
is anxiously awaiting your reply, which is being re-
broadcast over a world- wide chain.”
"Well,” replied the Baron, "at the present moment
we are passing the 160,000 mile mark, which leaves
us a distance of 80,000 miles yet to traverse. As we
have now reached a speed of ten thousand miles an
hour it will require between eight and nine hours more
to complete the journey. We will land in the crater
of Tycho, which I have calculated to be approximately
half an hour on the daylight side of the terminator. I
wish to observe the spectacle of the lunar sunset. Later,
when darkness has overtaken us, the magnesium flare
will be exploded.”
"You have the best wdshes of all the nations of
earth,” the operator told him.
"I will keep in touch with you from time to time,
and will appreciate it if you will keep a check on my
signal strength,” von Sturmfeld said, as he cut off the
transmitter.
Eight hours later the Stellarite was dropping slowly
into the enormous crater of Tycho. On all sides ex-
tended the brilliant "rays,” or shining, luminous streaks,
so well known to terrestrial observers of our satellite.
From the wall of jagged mountains on the west stretched
the purplish-black shadows of the lunar evening.
Suddenly the aspect changed; from looking up at
something above us we found that it was we who 'were
above and that the ship was dropping hull down toward
the lunar surface. By careful changes of the reactive
thrusts of the radicalite propulsion tubes von Sturm-
feld manoeuvred the Stellarite until it was settling
horizontally to the crater's bottom.
Abruptly, all around us, the air seemed filled with a
myriad whirling flakes of white, while the sky changed
from black to indigo blue. We could hear the whistle
and rush of air as a storm of wind shrieked outside.
Then a gentle shock; the Stellarite was once more upon
solid ground and the first landing ever made by man
upon the moon had been accomplished! Our leader
bowed his head in a short prayer, in which Cambell and
I joined, silently giving thanks to the Creator who had
permitted us to survive the dangers of space.
"Apparently an atmosphere is present in this crater,”
remarked Campbell, as we stared with awe-struck gaze
at the weird and desolate scene without.
"One that is rapidly solidifying,” von Stumifeld ob-
served, as he gazed thoughtfully through the glass dome.
The flakes of snowy material sputtered and fumed as
they struck against the glass, which, although cold from
the absolute zero of interplanetary space, received yet
enough heat from our warm interior to evaporate the
solidified ^air, the melting point of which was —218'"
Centigrade.
The brilliant orb of the sun, divided by a ledge of
rock at the summit of the distant crater-rim, shone with
a ghostly effect through the falling "snow.” Soon there
was but a thin line of light left, then naught but a
twisting prominence of red flame. As the latter van-
ished, we were once more enclosed by the Cimmerian
blackness of space, while, above, the blazing, diamond-
pointed stars flamed out across the sky anew.
When an hour had elapsed, the Baron instructed me
to call the earth, while he prepared to release the flare.
(This was a bomb weighing nearly a ton which con-
tained a flash mixture of magnesium and potassium
chlorate.) Three seconds later came the answer.
"Signals as strong as ever. Where are you now?”
1130
AMAZING STORIES
“In the crater of Tycho^ on the moon’s surface/’ I
told him, “and about to set off the flare. Are the ter-
restrial observatories watching?”
“Every telescope in the western hemisphere is trained
on the lunar globe ! The one hundred inch and sixty
inch reflectors at Mount Wilson, California, the thirty-
six inch refractor of the Yerkes Observatory at Green
Bay, Wisconsin, all are eagerly awaiting the flash that
will be proof of the culmination of your glorious and
courageous adventure/’
“Good. I will tell you just as Baron von Sturmfeld
drops the charge.”
Even as I spoke, the Stellarite was rising. Von
Sturmfeld halted at a height of ten miles, once more
in blazing sunshine, and then sped westward. As we
came over Tycho’s western rim he pushed a button
on the control panel that operated a trip, releasing the
enormous flare. A silver streak flashed beneath us in
the brilliant light ; f ailing moonward, it disappeared
in the shadow.
“There it goes!” I told the distant radio operator.
An instant later, as we looked down from the pilot
cabin windows, the most appalling gush of white flame
I had ever seen leaped up. Rocky crags, tumbled peaks,
and desolate plains all sprang into sharp delineation as
the two thousand pound missile of contracted light
burst.
Again the three second wait and .then the excited
operator’s voice:
. “I saw it myself .with a pair of field glasses! . A
bright white flash of light on the dark half of the m.oon,
just beyond where the sunlit part ends.” He paused
a moment.
“Two reports are here, one from Mount Wilson,
and the other from the Yerkes Observatory. Your sig-
nal was observed simultaneously by both. Your claims
are amply confirmed; I congratulate you.” Baron von
Sturmfeld took the microphone.
“Thank you,” he replied. “Your kind words are
most gratifying to us. We expect to return in—”
there was a dick and the voice of the operator inter-
rupted him. “The President of the United States
wishes to congratulate you himself.” His voice was
replaced by the deep, resonant tones of Samuel Cabot,
President of the United States.
“Baron von Sturmfeld, Mr. MacCleod, and Mr.
Campbell, let me offer you my heartiest congratulations
and felicitations upon your astounding accomplishment.
Your name will be engraved upon the rolls of history
as the men who blazed the pioneer trail of interplanet-
ary travel. Upon your return I shall recommend you
for the Congressional Medal of Honor.”
“Mr. President,” said the Baron, “your kindness
gives us the greatest of pleasure. I and my compan-
ions join in thanking you.”
“I shall look forward to meeting you upon your safe
return to earth.” Another dick and the President’s
voice ceased. Von Sturmfeld turned briskly around.
e/
“Now for the return, my friends,” he exclaimed,
exuberantly.
The Stellarite still occupied the position held at the
instant the flare was set off, ten miles above the lunar
surface. Sun, moon, and earth made a roughly tri-
angular figure, with the earth at the right angle and
the hypothenuse separating moon and sun. The lunar
surface presented to the earth was , therefore half il-
luminated and half obscured. Our course was plain;
the Stellarite need merely be directed toward the earth.
Von Sturmfeld fed power into the radicalite reaction
motors, and as we flashed upward at an ever-increas-
ing acceleration, I glanced through the rear-vision per-
iscopes at the earth’s satellite with mingled feelings of
relief and regret ; relief that we were on our way back
to safety and regret that I was leaving such fascinating
territory after so short a visit.
We had been traveling for perhaps four hours when
von Sturmfeld sprang to his feet and, glancing hur-
riedly at the power and cosmic speed indicating gauges,
tore out of the room and into the corridor leading to
the generator and reaction motor compartment. As
he did so, Campbell and I felt a noticeable deceleration
of the space flyer.
“What the devil?” exclaimed my companion. “Are
we slowing down?”
“You know as much about it as I do/’ I told him.
“Maybe ” '
The Baron stumbled through the airtight bulkhead
door, his face red with anger. In his hand was a sheet
of soiled and crumpled paper.
“Read this!” he grated, extending it to me. I cast
a hurried glance over it and then, thunderstruck, gave
it a sharper scrutiny. It read as follows, in German:
“Herr Baron von Sturmfeld,
“I have carefully remqved all your radicalite fuel
supply, save for an amount sufficient to take you to the
moon. I trust that while marooned there you will
meditate upon, the folly of those who cross my wishes,
pending, your uncomfortable death when your air has
been exhausted. Atif wiedersehen^
“Hans Barendt.”
Knocked in a heap by this astounding , note, I could
only stare at von Sturmfeld. Campbell snatched the
note as it fell from my unheeding grasp.
“Good God! Is what this swine says true, sir?” he
exclaimed. The Baron nodded, dully.
“Only too true, I fear. The radicalite is all gone;
he made a clean sweep. He didn’t do his work as well
as he intended, though; we had sufficient fuel to get
safely away from the moon. However, the three al-
ternatives left are not much more encouraging.”
“What are they?” Campbell asked.
“Simply this; first, our momentum may be insuffi-
cient to carry us to the point of neutral gravitation be-
tween Earth and Moon, in which case we’ll fall back
upon the latter and be dashed to pieces. Second, if
our momentum takes us to the neutral point and be-
yond, the Stellarite will fall 160,000 miles to the earth
and be burnt to vapor with her three occupants by at-
mospheric friction. Thirdly, if the. momentum is just
barely enough to take us to the neutral point and no
more, well fall into the sun! Rather a case of Hob-
son’s choice, is it not, my friends?”
“Is there nothing we can do?” I exclaimed.
“Not a thing in the world, my friend. The situation
is this: our power supply is divided into two sections,
reaction motors and fuel, and electrical energy in the
helium storage coils.”
He paused and pushed a button on the meter panel,
causing the needle of one of the meters to flick over.
It showed thousands of kilowatts of “bottled energy.”
“Little good does it do us, however/’ he continued.
“There is no way I know by which we can utilize that
electrical energy alone.”
“While I make some observations you had best com-
STELLAKITE
1131
municate with the earth, MacCleod, and inform them
of our predicament/'
The announcer at W2XAD was horrified at my
news. He reminded me that my voice was being re-
broadcasted^ and that the whole world had heard« Al-
ready the newsboys were shrieking extras on the
streets of Schenectady giving the first news of our
mishap, he said. He added that he would communicate
with the police at once with regard to the possible
apprehension of Barendt. As he ceased speaking I
noticed that all weight had disappeared and that the
microphone remained suspended in the air when I re-
leased it. ■
''We have reached the neutral point/' said the Baron,
stepping back from the telescope. "In a few moments
we will know whether we are doomed to be roasted to
death in our own atmosphere or by 'the sunT'
Ten minutes later he turned to us again«
"Wellj my friends, we will meet fiery extinction in
approximately sixty-four days. Our momentum is in-
sufficient to take us into the earth's gravitational field ;
already the Stellarite is beginning its 92,0tt),000 mile
fall !"
The next thirty days were a hell of anticipation of
the terrible fate that was to be our reward for tamper-
ing with the secrets of the universe. Campbell and I
passed the time in observations made with the telescope,
fruitless " endeavors to find some method of escaping
our inevitable end, and idle speculation. Communi-
cation with the earth continued, although it gradually
weakened. By its means we learned that Barendt and
two accomplices had been arrested, tried for murder,
condemned to death, and were then lynched by a furious
mok They broke into the jail at Mineola, in which the
three were ' held prior to being transferred to the
death house at Sing Sing, hung them from lamp posts
in the public square, and then riddled their bodies with
bullets.
Von Sturmfeld kept to himself in the laboratory at
the other end of the Stellarite, He would greet us ab-
sently as he came in response to our calls when Camp-
bell had prepared a meal, but otherwise we saw little
of Mm. I knew that he was striving to find a means
of retarding our headlong plunge into the sun, but
paid little heed. Campbell and I had about given ^ up
hope and were trying to spend our last remaining days
profitably.
Food we had in plenty. The ship had been well
stocked, at von Sturmfeld's order, before leaving, in
view of a possible emergency, hence wfe were in no
danger of starving. The liquid air supply was ample,
assuring us of enough air to breathe until the end.
As the earth receded, its apparent diameter became
less and less. From the moon's surface, it appeared
tliirteeii times the size of that satellite as viewed on
earth, but now, travelling as we were at a constantly
increasing velocity, it grew smaller day by day*
Through the small telescope carried by the Stellarite
the configurations of the continents, as well as cloud
formations, were still distinctly discernible, but with
the passage of each twenty- four hour period it became
less of a globular planet and more of a brilliant green
star.
The position of the SteUanie in regard to heat and
cold was peculiar in the extreme. On one side It re-
ceived the intolleraMe radiations of the sun, unhamp-
ered by any atmospheric dimiiiutioti, while on the other
existed the awful cold of interstellar spac-e. By means
of an ingenious device in which was incorporated the
circulation of liquid air from the warm side to the
cold, the Baron succeeded in providing an equalizer
that distributed a sufficient amount of heat and cold
throughout the ship and eliminated all drain upon the
reserves of current contained in the helium reservoir.
As - the earth's distance became greater, that of the
planet Venus grew less. One day von Sturmfeld an-
nounced that we would not only pass through the up-
permost limit of the Venerian atmosphere, but that the
Stellarite' s path would intersect the orbit of Mercury
at about three thousand miles from that bare and rocky
planet.
Radio communication with the earth was still main-
tained, although even more reduced in signal strength.
By its means von Sturmfeld informed all terrestrial
observatory staffs and astronomers, that as we passed
these members of the solar system, observations would
be made at close range and relayed back Even though
the Stellarite was headed for eventual destruction,
much valuable and highly important information might
be gleaned before that annihilation was consummated.
Because of the fact that Venus was yet between
us and the sun, its disc continued to present gradually
varying phases similar to those of the moon. Origin-
ally a long distance to one side, its motion along its
orbit brought it nearer and nearer. At the time of first
visibility, Venus presented a small half-disc; as the dis-
tance decreased the disc by degrees assumed a crescent
shape, increasing enormously in apparent size. We
soon realized that, far from falling into the sun, the
Stellarite would miss very narrowly, if not collide head-
on with, the planet "Venus!"
As the hours passed and the rapidly narrowing cres-
cent spread out more and more in the heavens’ before
us, an eery feeling of disaster commenced to steal over
me. The scene from the forward part of the pilot
room was indescribably strange ; the blazing white
crescent loomed ever nearer, while the dark portion of
the planet obscured most of the remaining firmament.
Away off to the right was the flaming sun; it was evi-
dent to all that Venus' strong gravitation field had
swung the Stellarite very much from its original line of
free fall.
At the W2XAD microphone now was Professor
Cummings, director of the Mount Wilson observatory,
eagerly taking notes and directing our observations. He
was in the middle of a long question to von Sturmfeld
when Campbell, who had been keeping a close watch
on the dark portion of the planet's surface, cried out
suddenly,
"Come here, both of you ! I see a searchlight !"
All other thoughts driven pell-mell from our minds
by this astounding news, the Baron and I sprang to the
telescope, at which we took turns in searching for the
light. As I gazed through the object glass, at first I
could see nothing but blackness.
Then, all at once, as I graduallj^ swung the telescope
across the enormous planetary disc, a luminous streak
emanating from a round spot of white light cut across
the field of vision. As I m^atched, it smmng twice in a
tight arc, winked out momentarily, snapped on and re-
peated its previous performance, and then was ex-
tinguished permanently.
"Conclusive evidence of intelligent life upon Vetius!"
the Baron was telling the 36,CK^,CM30 mile distant as-
1132
AMAZING STORIES
tronomer. He added, with a grim laugh, fear the
only way wed! inform them of our existence is by
smashing into one of their cities in a very few
minutes !’'
A crackling, rasping noise now began to “blanket^^
the radio, and the astronomer’s voice commenced to
fade. At the same time I became cognizant of a faint,
high-pitched whistle, that gradually became a soul-shak-
ing roar. I realized that already we were flashing
through the upper reaches of the Venerian atmosphere.
''We are entering the atmosphere of Venus!” von
Sturmfield exclaimed into the microphone. "I believe
we will penetrate the Venerian Heavyside layer very
shortly. Farewell!” ^ i
"Farewell !” came the reply, faint and indistinct, after
a lapse of six and one half minutes, the time required
for radio waves to traverse the 36,000,000 miles to the
earth and return. The crackling and roaring increased,
and we heard no more from the earth.
It soon became evident that we would miss Venus by
about two hundred miles only. Had it not been for von
Sturmfeld’s marvelous cooling system our fate would
have been that of any meteor seen in terrestrial skies on
an August night. The Stellarite would have disappeared
in a cloud of white hot particles and a long, luminous
trail in the evening mists.
As it was the interior grew so hot that we were
nearly suffocated. Outside we could see that our ex-
terior was blazing w^hite, and that we were leaving
behind us a bright streak, like that of a comet.
Campbell "fished around” with the radio dials dur-
ing the few seconds we had, and suddenly we were
electrified at hearing a deep voice, speaking a strange
tongue, resound from the speaker. A second later he
picked up strains of weird, barbaric music. It could
come from nowhere but the transmitters of an intelli-
gent race inhabiting the planet beneath us!
Almost at once we saw that we were leaving the
Venerian atmosphere, and therefore were in no danger
of collision, Baron von Sturmfeld set to work to calcu-
late our new course with relation to the sun. As he did
so the Stellarite emerged into dazzling light.
Above us was a brilliant blue sky, while below spread
the vast green surface of Venus. In the flashing in-
stant available for observation I noted a huge conti-
nent, with a sparkling blue sea to one side, while von
Sturmfeld, at the telescope, cried out that he had seen a
marvelous city.
It was all too short. The sky grew black again, the
sun flamed out as before, and across the heavens was
flung the starry canopy of interstellar space. The
Stellarite had left the Venerian atmosphere and was
once more traversing the midnight reaches of the solar
system.
Several hours later Baron von Sturmfeld announced
the results of his computations. He had been in the
laboratory at the other end of the ship, and so we had
not kept in touch with him the while,
"Instead of falling freely into the sun, as previously,
I find now that the attraction of Venus has swung the
Stellarite into an open parabola. This means that, under
existing conditions, we will sweep around the sun in
an open curve, a parabola, and retreat into space like
any visiting comet, never to return. Instead of burning
up, well freeze to death.
"However, I believe I am on the track of a remedy
for the situation. I have been studying the effect of
cosmic rays upon the matter of which this ship is com-
posed ; perhaps we may yet be able to return to our
homes on earth!” „(
The next month went by quickly. Flashing ever
nearer and nearer the sun, the Stellarite crossed the
orbit of Mercury at a distance of 1,500,000 miles in-
stead of the 3,OCK3 originally calculated. Through the
telescope we could see that its surface was a desolate,
furnace-hot, airless waste, with no possibility of life
of any sort, much less of intelligent life. Von Sturmfeld
would have liked to have relayed this information back
to the earth, but in vain ; we were unable to re-establish
communication subsequent to our passage through the
Venerian atmosphere.
As we swung in an arc around the sun the Stellarite
came so close that it sped through long, slender tufts of
the corona most of the way. Weird streamers of light
would shoot out and play around us, while everything
in the ship would glow^ and snap with heavy electric
charges. I could sense a strange feeling within me,
almost as if I were being dissolved into nothingness,
when one of these glowing white spears of electric fire
surrounded the ship.
But time passed; presently the Stellarite had com-
pleted her circuit and once more vras "outward bound.”
Von Sturmfeld showed himself only at meals, so much
did he keep to his laboratory work. When he did ap-
pear he was taciturn and absent-minded, and rarely
spoke to either Campbell or me. One day, however,
when we were again approaching the orbit of Venus,
he burst into the control room with a broad smile on his
lean and handsome features.
"My friends, it is finished! I have succeeded beyond
my wildest expectations! The method I have worked
out will enable us to employ the vast supply of elec-
trical energy remaining in our helium reservoir coils.
It makes use of radiation pressure.
"Again I must resort to explanation. It is a com-
monplace of modern electromagnetic theory that radia-
tion of every kind has a perfectly definite weight. This
weight is in every sense as real as the weight of a ton
of coal. A ray of light causes an impact on any sur-
face upon which it falls, just as a jet of water does,
or a blast of wind, or the fall of a great weight ; with a
sufficiently strong light one could knock a man down
just as surely as with a stream of water from a fire
hose.
"This is not mere theory ; it is actual fact. The pres-
sure of light on a surface has been both detected and
measured by direct experiment. These experiments
are extraordinarily difficult because, judged by all
ordinary standards, the weight carried is so small that
the radiation emitted by a fifty horsepower seachlight
working continuously for over one hundred years
weighs only about a twentieth of an ounce.
"You will understand, of course, that this applies
to any type of radiation, be its form long or short. This
pressure, which seems so insignificant in the case of the
searchlight, increases as the square of the heat pro-
ducing it, and, in the interior of the larger stars, is as
much responsible as any other cause in producing their
enormous size. The radiation pressure serves to force
the material of which the star is composed away from
the center, just as it does the tail of a comet approach-
ing the sun.
"Now, I reasoned, if we have all that radiation,
which amounts to the annihilation of two hundred and
STELLARITE ^ 1133
fifty tons of matter a minute^ why couldn't we put a
small portion of it to work^ with all that energy stream-
ing from the sun every minute^ and all the power
aboard the Stellarite, we should be able to do something
that would remove us from our desperate plight.
^'My theory was as follows ; the cosmic radiation goes
through everytliingj human or inanimate, yet ordinary
visible light goes through nothing but glass and a few
similar materials, and through no metals at all, with
the possible exception of very thin gold leaf. Again,
the cosmic rays exert no pressure, while ordinary light
exerts a pressure that is easily measurable. Why not
attempt to make an object opaque to the cosmic radia-
tion, to determine whether or not a pressure would be
exerted ?
'‘In my experiments in the laboratory in the other
end of the Stellarite I used an electromagnetic field
generated by a special application of one of the cathode
ray tubes, originally used in the production of radi-
calite, that fortunately was brought along. The first
object subjected to the influence of this field was a
small block of hard wood.
the first try there was no result; the block of
wood remained motionless where it lay, I attacked my
brains for hours, cudgeling them for the bad point in
my line of theory.
‘‘Suddenly it occurred to me that if the experiment
had worked, there would still have been no result, as
the pressure would have been applied equally on all
sides. Cursing myself for my obtuseness, I readjusted
the field so that its effect would apply in one direction
only. Almost holding my breath in my anxiety, for
another failure would mean that I was “barking up the
wrong tree" (to use one of your American slang ex-
pressions), I closed the switch energizing the cathode
circuit of the tube.
“For an instant nothing happened, and then, like a
stone from a small boy's sling, the block of wood shot
across the room, smashed a whole row of chemical
apparatus along the bench, and ended up again the steel
bulkhead. Here, no longer under the inflence of the
field, it fell to the deck. It was confirmation with a
vengeance !
“According to the equations I have evolved, there is
not only a condition of pressure present, but an actual
repulsion. The electrostatic field set up by the tube
causes the atoms of any matter within its sphere of in-
fluence to vibrate in synchronism, one hundred and
eighty degrees out of phase, with the inconceivably high
frequency of the cosmic radiations, and in so doing to
exert a repulsive effect. In accordance with Equation
Nine, the velocity may be varied from zero to a point
where it approximates the square of the speed of light,
which speed is 186,000 miles per second.
“I fail to understand this last, as it is entirely con-
trary to Einstein's principles. From the scanty data I
have at hand the Fitzgerald Contraction does not apply,
either."
“Pardon me, sir," interrupted Campbell, “but would
you mind explaining to me just what the Fitzgerald
Contraction is?"
“Well," replied von Sturmfeld, “I can best illustrate
it by giving a homely example.
“Suppose that you have a rod moving at a very high
speed. Let it first be pointing transverse to its line of
motion, then turn it until it is at right angles to its
former direction, i e., it now lies along the line of
motion. It contracts, and is now shorter than when it
was transverse.
“This contraction is exceedingly small in all ordinary
circumstances. An example of this is the Earth's con-
traction due to its speed in its orbit around the sun.
Traveling at a speed of 19 miles a second the contrac-
tion is only one part in 200,000,000, or 2% inches in the
total diameter of the earth.
“If you were moving at a speed of, say, 161, (XX)
miles per second, the contraction would amount to one
half. An object placed across the line of motion would
contract to half its length when rotated through 90®,
And, under normal holding of the law, as the speed
of the object approached that of light the length would
become zero and the mass infinity. Thus, it would be
the “limiting velocity." This is the law which is abro-
gated in our case, through some new physical function
at which we can only guess !
“Do you understand?"
“Fairly well, sir," replied Campbell,
“Then we must get to work ; it will be quite a task to
place these connections to the hull of the Stellarite T
It was indeed a task; when the work was complete
a day and a half of terrestrial time had been consumed.
The Baron rigged up the cathode tube in the pilot room
and wired another panel so as to have complete control
over the units in all parts of the ship.
“We are now free from all effects of acceleration,"
he stated. “This field will act on the atoms of our
bodies as well as those of the ship, so that as the latter
accelerates we will do likewise. We will therefore be
enabled to attain instantaneously the highest speeds, or
make the sharpest turns, without experiencing the
slightest discomfort"
The parabolic curve of our present path would carry
the space flyer across the earth's orbit far behind the
latter, which would have traversed many million miles
on its circuit of the sun since our abrupt departure four
months before. It was a simple matter for Baron von
Sturmfeld to make his calculations and, with the new
propusion machinery, catch up. He called us to the
telescope when all was in readiness.
“Observe, my friends; you can see the earth for
yourselves. Having progressed 192,6^,000 miles on
its orbit of approximately 578, (KX), 000 miles, it is now,
roughly speaking, 96,300,000 miles from the Stellarite/^
“I looked, to behold a tiny green disc that appeared
about the size of Mars as viewed from the earth. Bare-
ly visible beside it was a point of light that was,
so the Baron informed us, the moon,
A wave of nostalgia swept over me. Would I ever
again see the green trees and shining blue waters of the
planet on which I was born? Time was beginning to
hang heavily, after four months of nothing but the
eternal blackness of space and the pitiless glitter of the
stars for company. Would the Baron succeed, or were
the crew of the Stellarite doomed to wander on through
the distant reaches of the void, outcast and forlorn,
until their food and air supplies became exhausted and
they were one with eternity?
“Note the time," came von Sturmf eld's order, in-
terrupting my revery. I glanced up and saw that it
was ten-fifty A. M., New York time,
“Gentlemen, prepare yourselves!"
He pressed three keys on the panel and closed a
switch. Instantly a feeling of sick giddiness cour^d
through me, while my skin commenced to tingle. Glanc-
1154
DIUHIJLD
ing at von Sturmfeld and Campbell^ I could see that
they were experiencing the same peculiar sensations.
As I gazed through the transparent dome above me
a fantastic thing became apparent ; the sun had
changed from his customary yellow to a deep reddish
hue !
''Good Lord, sir/' I exclaimed. "What's happened
to the sun?”
"That, Mr. MacCleod, is the 'Doppler' effect/' re-*
plied the other. "When an observer and a source of
radiation are moving relative to each other, a shifting
of frequency and spectral lines is noticed toward either
the violet or, red end of the spectrum, according as the
two are approaching or receding. In our case it is the
latter. Of course the speed has to be enormous to
cause any noticeable effect.”
He threw open the switch once more and released
the three keys on the board. Coincident with this the
sun resumed its norma! hue, while, far more apparent
to us, a brilliant greenish light poured in on the op-
posite side. I was stricken with amazement, for
through the glass I could see the enormous semi-circle
of a huge planet; a planet that had not been there a
second before.
Bewilderedly I traced the familiar outlines of con-
tinents and seas, and suddenly I realized I was looking
at the earth. An earth that was, to judge from its ap-
parent size, a scant twenty-five thousand miles or so
away! The clock said ten fifty-four and a half.
"Gentlemen,” announced von Sturmfeld, in a par-
donably grandiloquent manner, "our velocity a moment
ago was twice that of light;, the Stellarite and its crew
traversed 96,300,000 miles of space, in four minutes
and a half. The earth lies before us, barely a stone's
throw, in spacial figures!”
A second while we gazed reverently upon the planet,
and then, as if by common consent, we fell upon our
knees and gave thanks to God for having delivered us
from our terrible predicament.
The skin of our bodies was tanned a deep mahogany
from the action of the cosmic rays, which had had an
effect on the epidermis similar to that of violet and
ultraviolet light. Otherwise than that no ill effects
could be noticed.
Springing to the radio, I energized the vacuum tube
filaments, grabbed the receivers, and turned in on
W2XAD's 19 meter wave. A talk of some kind was
being broadcasted; Fd soon put a stop to that!
The station staff were supposed to have a radio re-
ceiving set continually tuned to our frequency. If they
had not yet given up all hope and discontinued it, I
should still be able to "raise” them.
Reaching for the microphone, I sent out a long call,
using our full power of fifteen kilowats. When I had
repeated this twice I heard the announcer, who was an-
nouncing a change in program at the fifteen minute in-
terval, gasp and then yell into the microphone:
"Folks, I'm getting a call from the SteUarite! Stel-
larite, where are you? Can you hear me?”
"Sure can,” I replied, chuckling. "We're now about
twenty “five thousand miles from the earth's surface,
proceeding under low power. I suppose we were given
up for lost months ago?”
"Everybody lliought you'd collided with the planet
¥enus, when your radio signals stopped!” he exclaimed.
"What happened to your cdmEitinicatioia system?”
"It cut off after we passed through the Veneriaii
atmosphere,'" I told him. "Why, I cannot say. We're
coming down now; I'll keep in touch with you from
time to time.”
The gigantic disc that filled the entire sky before us
was awe-inspiring in the extreme. The light reflected
from its surface was a strong greenish-yellow that was
soothing to the eye, in comparison with the terrific glare
of unrelieved sunlight we had gazed upon for so long.
We had swung around in our headlong flight until the
Stellarite was almost directly in line with the earth
and the sun, and so a "full” earth was presented to our
fascinated gaze.
The space ship was still at a distance sufficieiitly
great to give it the appearance of a spherical body, but
already our pace was once again so terrific that it was
rapidly flattening out. We could see the western half of
Europe, the broad expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, and
the eastern edge of America. Von Sturmfeld had so di-
rected the Stellarite that its flight was at an angle, with
the planet's surface, that would bring us directly over
the Middle Atlantic states. From this position it would
be extremely simple to locate Long Island and Roose-
velt Field.
So close were , we now that the earth seemed a
huge, concave dish set in the sky above us. And we
were again commencing to lose the impression of look-
ing up.; rather did we seem to be suspended at an
enormous height, bottom side up. I grew dizzy at
the thought. Suddenly the windows clouded; the Stel-
larite was plunged in a whirling mass of vapor. Almost
instantly this passed, to be replaced by the same clear-
ness that had prevailed before, but now the sky was
commencing to take on the old, familiar blueness. As
the density of the air increased, the stars faded rapidly
from view, and I could feel the interior of the^ ship
grow warm, as the atmospheric friction tore at the hull
The Baron adjusted for this with the cooling
machinery.
Now we were in the vicinity of Newfoundland, still
traveling well over a mile a second, but slowing rapidly.
I called the operator at W2XAD, informing him of
our position.
"You will find Roosevelt Field jammed with count-
less thousands,” he replied. "You are to be feted,
paraded, and Lord knows what not. I wish I might be
there to greet you personally.”
Now we were crossing Massachusetts Bay, and the
long, out-thrust arm of Cape Cod. Through the tele-
scope I could easily see the Memorial Lighthouse on the
tip end of the Cape, at Provincetown. Boston was a
tiny smoke blot sixty miles across the Bay.
Mile after mile of the Atlantic coast slipped by; Nar-
ragansett Bay, Martha's Vineyard, and Block Island
Sound, and then the slender hundred and thirty mile
stretch of Long Island with the goal at its end and
almost in sight.
At last the Stellarite was over Roosevelt Field and
dropping slowly toward the ground. The field was
simply black with swarming thousands. I remarked
that it was lucky we had no whirling propeller to worry
about !
As Von Sturmfeld brought the Stellarite lightly to
earth I could hear the continuous, sustained roaring of
the crowd through the walls of the craft. We paused
(Continu-ed on page 1144)
Stallion’s T tappings
By DEAN COLLINS
'T HIS is quite an interesting study, where the ideas of one man are absorbed
I
through a surgical operaiioriy and
AND what do you want. Professor Shea, in return
fJk for this million and a half inheritance? A poor
X JL college professor, suddenly come into a forttme,
doesn’t dump the whole thing into the lap of a practical
stranger unless he expects equal or greater value in
exchange. What is it you want ?”
want Mortimer Judd’s brain/^
Dr, Malayan did not show surprise. He was not sur-
prised — unless it might be over the fact that Professor
Shea in some way had found out about his agreement
with Mortimer Judd.
He did not ask him any of the obvious questions
that might have been first on the lips of any other man—
any man who did not have it in his power to grant the
fantastic demand.
^What will you do with it?” he asked instead,
. Professor Shea leaned forward with an expression
at once craven and grim.
think we may pass all the preliminaries and hedg-
ings that ordinary men would use. Dr. Malayan. I at-
tach no value to the sudden inheritance that came to me
from an uncle I have never seen, unless it will pur-
chase the one thing I want and shall not have except
through your scientific skill.
doesn’t matter to us how I learned of the agree-
ment whereby Mortimer Judd gave you his brain for
exf^rimental purposes, in return for the additional
twenty years of life that your skill was able to furnish
him. It doesn’t matter how I know that the lease of
life you gave him is now expiring, I don’t mind telling
you at leisure, after we have reached an agreement,
^^Two things are important now. You can use a mil-
lion and a half in your further experiments. I can use
Judd’s brain — his fierce, ruthless, powerful brain which
has been the instrument by which he has won and held
his mastery over men and things and events. I can use
it to win for me all the things in life, which my scholar’s
brain could not win for me.
''I have been a learned beggar all my life, mildly
respected for my erudition, utterly ignored as a man
by my fellow men and women, brow-beaten and de-
spised by the woman who married me, bullied by facul-
ties and clerks of the college.
'1 want to mount that beggar upon the great stallion
brain of Mortimer Judd, and ride it to mastery as he
rode it”
Dr. Malayan opened his lips, but Professor Shea
checked him with a gesture.
offer you more than a million and a half, Dr. Mal-
ayan, I offer you also my skull as an incubator in
which to nourish and continue the life of that brain,
to follow and study its further conquests, as you have
followed and studied them for the past twenty years —
ever since you made your satanic pact with Judd.
the author tells of the effect produced^
Surely that amazing instrument of power, mounted
and operating under your observation, is of more value
to you that it would be if pickled in formaldehyde, or
preserved in mere, unfunctioning aliveness in one of
those other solutions that you know.”
Dr. Malayan did not beat about the bush.
'‘What about you? I know more than any other
living man about what you ask me to do; only one
thing I do not know. I do not know where or how to
lay hold of the force that functions through the brain
instrument. You realize that you may be abandoning
your personality and substituting that of Judd, if you
go through with this?”
‘‘Perhaps! I take that chance. It is my conviction
that I shall keep the Me^ after you have scooped the
brain out of my skull and set that other brain in its
place. Just the cerebrum of Mortimer Judd. That’s
all I want. Install it in my skull, connect it with my
cerebellum and the rest of my brain and nerve tissue.
I have a conviction, irrational but sure, that my person-
ality will flow up to possess and utilize this new instru-
ment you give me.”
The two mad men of genius sat looking at one
another; understanding one another.
Malayan spoke.
“Arrange tomorrow for the transfer of the money
to my account. Mortimer Judd will be dead officially
Thursday morning. Somehow you have learned that I
am able to do things with brain and nerve tissue that no
other person can do— things that the best approved
scientists will tell you are mechanical and physiological
impossibilities. We pass that for what it is worth.
Come to my private suite of laboratories Wednesday at
four P. M. I have two assistants I can trust implicitly.
I need them to stand by ’while I make the transfer.”
“Tomorrow you shall have the inheritance I got from
my uncle,” said Shea rising, and taking his hat, without
offering to shake hands.
“And Thursday morning you shall have the brain
of Mortimer Judd in your skull.” Dr. Malayan grinned
humorlessly. “And Mortimer Judd’s family will be
preparing to give your brain a costly and elaborate
funeral along with that other remnant of Mortimer
Judd that I have kept alive twenty years longer than
it should have lived.”
^ ^ ^ sfs
The college faculty sent flowers to the hospital and a
committee visited and condoled with Professor Shea,
over his sudden and severe illness.
Fortunate, they pointed out, that such a wizard as Dr.
Malayan had been available to operate. Otherwise
doubtless Professor Shea would not be alive at this
moment.
1135
1136
AMAZING STORIES
Professor Shea let them talk.
In due timCi he was convalescent— was well.
It was only a week after he resumed his place in
the faculty meetings that his confreres awoke to the
fact that a new spirit seemed to animate Professor
Shea*
In the second week the other members of the faculty
were obliged to look around for some other permanent
worm to tread upon^ for the worm, that was Professor
Shea, seemed to have developed fangs.
Professor Shea's open friendship with Dr. Malayan
caused some criticism, but they learned not to be too
open about this.
When Professor Shea's wife, the woman who had
browbeaten him for more than thirty years, suddenly
filed suit for divorce on charges of cruelty — ^and when
her testimony came out— they did band together to
demand his resignation.
Professor Shea laughed and resigned, moved off the
campus and launched himself into a financial career that
became a miracle of the year.
Financiers, business men, folks in the outer world
who had been breathing easily for the first time in
twenty years since Mortimer Judd died, found^ stalking
once more amongst them a wolf, fiercer, more ruthless,
more dominating even than Judd had been.
They hated him as no man had been hated since
Mortimer Judd died.
Professor Shea had had few friends before. He had
none now. He did not care ; and once a month he went
with Dr. Malayan on a week-end trip to the doctor's
laboratory lodge in the mountains west of the city.
Dr. Malayan found keenest interest in the blending
of personality that he detected in his masterpiece.
shall find yet,- Professor Shea, how much of the
personality is intrinsic in the instrument through which
it works, and how much of it lies behind the instru-
ment, untouchable by my scientific skill— at present.''
Professor Shea agreed that this might be possible.
^'But that IS not important to me, doctor. You can
enjoy yourself speculating on the matter. I am too
busy riding this stallion you have sold me, trying to find
the limit of its strength and its ferocity. I have not
found it— yet."
And with the widening of the circle of Professor
Shea's manifold enterprises, grew a widening circle of
ruin among what he termed the "unmounted beggars/'
in the business world in which he had reared himself
as a colossus.
Then he missed the week-end rendezvous with the
doctor.
Dr. Malayan without telephoning or waiting, hur-
ried back from his lodge and to the Mortimer Judd man-
sion — ^the mansion that it had been Professor Shea's
whim to buy and inhabit, when his fortunes rose to a
point that made the deal possible.
Police wei)e there before Dr. Malavan, and men from
the coroner's office.
Dr. Malayan did not waste time.
"Assassinated by some business enemy?" he asked
the first officer he met in the hall.
"No doctor! Suicide! Late last night."
"How ?"
"Put a shotgun in his mouth, pulled the trigger with
his boot, and blew the top out of his head."
"Motive?"
"Hard to tell Left a note, addressed to you. We
can't make out Just what he was aiming at. The chief
in there has it."
Dr. Malayan did not look at the contoured sheet' that
covered the body, but asked permission to see the note.
He read it.
"Hm-m-mf No doubt! Twenty years of themf^ he
remarked half to himself.
The coroner's assistant took the note from Dr. Mal-
ayan's hand and began puzzling once more over the
meaningless line scribbled upon it.
"I could no longer endure Ms memories."
The End
REVERIE
By Forrest Elliott
Lay my wing-suit out tomorrow,
I am going to the moon;
For I know I there can borrow
Silver beams to fill this room.
And while there I will consider
If ’twould do for permanence;
Then return and take you thither
To enjoy our recompense.
Lay my wing-suit out tomorrow,
We’ve endured and here’s the end;
I shall see that no more sorrow
Our existence shall offend.
The End
By Hal K. Wells
HIS story takes us to the planetary world and tells us of the space ship
^Halcon^^ that ts bound for the planet Mars. Its description of the lonely
region of space is most impressive and we feel that we can unhesitatingly recom-
mend this narration to our readers.
Illustrated by MOREY
W ITHIN the centra! !ouiige-room of the
Falcon — space-yacht from earth bound
for the cyllogen mines of Uranus-
three men faced each other in a tense
tableau of smoldering menace.
The Falcon belonged to the two earth-men in the little
group — Eric Larsen and Bart Wheeler. They were in-
terplanetary adventurers, whose close friendship had
been sealed by perils mutually shared on every habitable
world in the solar system. Both were magnificent physi-
cal specimens,
Larsen, blond as his distant Viking forebears, had the
lithe strength of a tiger in his tall body, Wheeler's dark
head barely reached Larsen's shoulder, but his stocky
body had the spreading shoulders and massive chest of
one of earth's ancient wrestlers.
The third member of the trio was Dalo Yok, Martian
navigator of the Falcon. In any physical combat either
Larsen or Wheeler could have broken Dalo Yok's thin
body in half. Yet for the moment they stood helplessly
at bay before the menace of the acid-gun in the blue-
skinned Martian's hand. Its spurting jet of acid-mist
would crumble flesh and bone into steaming liquid, like
butter melting before the thrust of a wEite-hot poker,
Larsen's eyes were fixed upon Dalo Yok's face, trying
to fathom the reason for this utterly unexpected attack.
During the twelve months that the Martian had been
their navigator he had always been loyal, quiet, and as
coldly efficient as an automaton. Those were the very
qualities that made Martians in such great demand as
space-navigators. Combat and the other more adven-
turous phases of exploration were left to the warmer-
blooded races of Earth and Venus,
On the present trip Dalo Yok had remained quietly
in his quarters in the navigating-room forward until
barely tw^^o minutes ago, when he had come charging sud-
denly back into the lounge, confronting Larsen and
Wheeler with his acid-gun and gibbering away in gut-
tural Martian like a madman. In that excited flow of
words the bewildered earth-men had been able only to
make out repeated references to ''Yokkii, lost dead sun
of Ran Yok."
Larsen's gaze studied Dalo Yok’s face only briefly
before he found that which he w^as seeking. The reason
for the Martian's sudden outburst was clearly written in
the slight greenish tinge of his yellow eyes and the pecu-
liar oily sheen of his blue-skinned face. Those physical
signs mean only one thing. Dalo Yok had been chewing
luhna weed, the forbidden narcotic plant of Mars, which
for the time being drives its devotees thoroughly and
hopelessly insane.
Dalo Yok snarled as he met Larsen's steady gaze. He
abruptly shifted his tirade from Martian to English.
^^Earth-men, no longer are you masters of the Falcon'*
he boasted. “From now on I shall dictate our course,
and it will be a course that but one other man in all his-
tory has ever dared travel. We go to seek the lost dead
sun of Ran Yok- — ^that fire-ringed world of mystery to
which he gave the name of Yokku, I have the charts
which everyone believed were lost with Ran Yok's death.
“Do you remember how your scientists of earth
laughed down Ran Yok's claims after he came hurtling
in, dying and alone, from his great voyage into outer
space? They said that his story was the mere fantasy of
a dying madman, and the rest of the solar system be-
lieved them. Ran Yok's memory became a laughing-
stock. It is left to me, son of Ran Yok, to vindicate the
vanished honor of the House of Yok.
“The chance for that vindication is now at my hand.
The Falcon shall follow Ran Yok's historic trail, on
beyond Uranus, beyond Neptune, and on for two billion
miles more through the black void of outer space, until
we find again the lost dead sun of Yokku,"
The Martian drew a small silken flag from his belt-
pouch and shook its folds free for the earth-men to see
the intricate monogram of ancient Martian script em-
broidered in gold against a black background.
“The banner of the mighty House of Yok!" he
shouted exultantly. “'We shall plant it upon the loftiest
peak of Yokku. There it shall proclaim to the entire
Universe that Ran Yok was neither liar nor madman,
but the greatest space explorer of all worlds and all time !
“But enough of this 1" Dalo Yok checked his harangue
abruptly. “I am wasting valuable time." He gestured
imperiously with the barrel of his weapon toward the
closed metal door behind them. “In the cage-room,
Earth-men. There you can remain safely out of my way
until we land on Yokku. Hurrv— I have work to do."
A glance of swift relief passed between Larsen and
Wheeler. This was a better break than they had dared
hope for. The cage-room— a bare steel cell used occa-
sionally for transporting live animal specimens from
other planets — had a new feature of which Dalo Yok
knew nothing.
The heavy door of the cage-room locked automatically
and until recently could only be opened from the outside.
But while the ship was in repair dock on earth a month
ago the accidental closing of the door had made a pris-
1137
FLAME-WORMS OF YOKKU
1139
oner 0 '£ Wheeler for nearly twenty-four hours before
he was finally found. He and Larsen had promptly
done away with any future danger of that kind, by in-
stalling auxiliary mechanism that allowed the lock to be
opened from the inside by anyone who knew the combi-
nation.
Trying to keep from seeming too suspiciously acqui-
escent, Larsen and Wheeler retreated backward to the
cage-room, followed by Dalo Yok with alertly leveled
gun. A moment later they were inside the cell and the
door clicked shut and locked after them.
Wheeler promptly reached a hand toward the new
mechanism to unlock the door, but Larsen quickly
stopped him.
“Not too fast, Bart/^ he whispered. “Wait till wehe
sure Dalo Yok has left the lounge. Hell have to return
to the navigating-room to start the bow-generators for
the propulsion rays, if lieL going to swing us around
Uranus. When we feel the vibration of the generators
starting, we can sneak out and stalk him. Till then, let's
get away from this door. He might take a peek in
through the observation-panel and get suspicious.''
Wheeler shrugged his shoulders in reluctant assent to
the wisdom of Larsen's plan, and followed him over to
the opposite walk They sprawled as comfortably as
they could on the bare metal floor, silently waiting for
the vibration of the generators.
Larsen's thoughts were busy with memories conjured
up by Dalo Yok's mention of Yokku and Ran Yok. Five
years ago— back in the Summer of 2149— both of those
names had figured sensationally in the news of the day.
Ran Yok, an obscure Martian astronomer, had ad-
vanced the theory that out in space, far beyond the known
limits of the solar system, there was a dwarf companion
to the sun— not merely another planet, but a small dark
sun warmed by the smoldering remnants of its own
original fires, and possibly with portions of its surface-
crust habitable by living beings.
It was plausible enough as a theory. A number of
men had advanced it before Ran Yok. The great ma-
jority of stars have stellar companions, and there was
no particular reason why the sun should be a freak her-
mit. It was admitted that a small solar companion, even
though self-luminous to a considerable degree, could
exist far out in space and never be discovered tele-
scopically.
But Ran Yok went farther than mere theory. He
claimed to have charted the dwarf companion's actual
position, two billion miles beyond Neptune's orbit. He
offered a maze of figures to support his assertion, but
after a cursory glimpse at them the leading scientists of
both earth and Mars dismissed Ran Yok' claims as
being too vaguely theoretical to even merit consideration.
Ran Yok then tried to induce space explorers to voy-
age out into the uncharted void in search of the dead
sun, but he failed utterly. Space travel within the
bounds of the solar system itself was scarcely a century
old. To leave the familiar realm of the known planets
and go hurtling out two billion miles into the black void
of interstellar space in search of a tiny dim world whose
very existence had yet to be proved— that was a proposi-
tion before which even the hardiest of space explorers
frankly quailed.
Finally in sheer desperation Ran. Yok secured a space-
ship himself and with three companions set out. Six
months later his ship came roaring in out of the Martian
sky and crashed to the ground completely out of controL
Opening the wreck, investigators found Ran Yok's three
companions gone and Ran Yok himself a raving madman
who screamed incessantly oi orms— fiame-worms—
giant flame-worms of Yokku !"
He was so badly injured that he died while they were
removing him from the wreckage. It was believed at
that time that his charts and calculations had perished
with him. The ship's log was nearly destroyed in the
crash, but one of the few entries remaining legible
seemed to indicate that Ran Yok had actually found the
sun's dwarf companion — a strange habitable little world
lighted and heated by a ring of fire encircling it— and
had given it the name of Yokku.
For a brief time Ran Yok became a popular hero in
the sensational press. Then his story gradually crumbled
before the cold logic of Earth's scientists, who pointed
out that Ran Yok .was a totally inexperienced space ex-
plorer, and that there was not a shred of actual proof
that his entire story of Yokku was not a mere figment
of a madman's disordered brain.
In the reaction that followed, Ran Yok's story was
completely discredited. The most commonly accepted be-
lief regarding his tragic voyage finally came to be that
he had really landed upon some remote part of the solar
system— possibly one of the three unexplored moons of
Jupiter. Losing his three companions in some tragedy
there, liis brain had given way under the shock and he
had headed back home, a pathetic madman with- a
“Yokku" obsession.
Wheeler broke in upon Larsen's thoughts. “Too bad
we didn't know Dalo was old Ran Yok's son. There
must be a taint of lunacy in the whole family."
“We had no reason to guess it," Larsen answered,.
“Yok is a common enough family name on Mars. I
wonder how’ long he's been brooding over Ms father's
wrongs and trying to plan a way to seize the Falcon?
Probably ever since he's been with us, but never quite
got nerve enough up to really start things. Then this
trip he indulged in a private little luhna jag, and finally
got himself hopped up to the point where he had enough
courage to try his hare-brained—”
Larsen broke off abruptly as the metal floor suddenly
began the vibration that told of . the generators being
started. Dalo Yok was safely back in the navigating-
room.
The two men quickly rose to their feet and started for
the door. They had barely taken the first step when they
detected the telltale odor of burnt cinnamon. Their
startled glance up at the ventilator high in the forward
wall showed a pale amber mist streaming down into the
air of the little room. Lethygen— the instantaneous and
perfect anaesthetic !
With faces blanched in consternation, they flung
themselves forward in a last desperate lunge for the
door. But midway in their rush their muscles collapsed
under them and they crashed^ helplessly to the floor.
The lethygen apparatus in the ventilator was for use
when animals in the cage-room became too violent.
Under the influence of the amber mist a victim could
be kept in a state of suspended animation for weeks at
a time. The release switch for the lethygen was in the
navigating-room. Dalo Yok had apparently turned it on
to rid himself of any further bother with Ms prisoners
during the trip.
Larsen's last conscious thought was one of sheer
1140
AMAZING STORIES
horror at the situation in which he and Wheeler ¥/ere
now placed— helpless prisoners lying there in a stupor of
living-death^ while the space-ship hurtled on toward the
unknown void of outer space, with only the mad whims
of a drug-crazed Martian to direct its flight. Then every
thought faded from Larsen's brain in the final oblivion
of the lethygen.
H e struggled slowly, back to consciousness with a
vague impression that something was wrong in his
surroundings. He opened his^ eyes and saw that the
floor was sloping at an angle that had slid both himself
and Wheeler down against one walk The Falcon had
obviously landed somewhere, and the landing had been
so badly botched that the ship now rested nearly over
on one side.
Wheeler was already awake. The two men clambered
stiffly to their feet. A moment's manipulation of the
door's mechanism released the lock. They crept can-
tiously out and advanced through the deserted lounge
toward the navigating-room. Their first glance inside
showed them that caution was no longer necessary. Dalo
Yok had left the Falcon. Both the inner and outer
doors of the air-lock were still slightly ajar where the
Martian had gone out.
Wheeler entered the air-lock to look outside for Dalo
Yok. Larsen made a hurried, anxious examination of
the intricate control panels and mechanisms in the navi-
gating-room, to see how badly damaged they had been
in the Falcon^ s landing. It had been the jar of the
landing that had put the cage-room lethygen apparatus
out of commission, for the switch was still in the
position. A few other minor connections in the navi-
gating-room were broken, but Larsen found no serious
injury anywhere.
Then suddenly he discovered something that brought
a smothered gasp of dismay to his lips. The anode-bar
in the central control panel was gone. The six-inch
piece of intricately fashioned marabite metal had been
clumsily disconnected from its terminals and removed
bodily* Without that anode-bar it was impossible to
even start the ship's propulsion ray generators.
Larsen silently heaped maledictions upon the absent
Martian's head, as he realized what had happened. With
drug-inspired cunning, Dalo Yok had made sure that no
one would move the ship in his absence. Wherever the
Martian now was, the anode-bar was with him.
Wheeler stepped back in through the air-lock with an
expression of frank amazement upon his deeply tanned
face.
"'^Looks like that Martian idiot did just what he threat-
ened to do about taking us to Yokku!" he announced
grimly, ^^There's the ring of fire in the sky that old Ran
Yok wrote about in his log, and from what I can see of
the stars we're somewhere out about two billion miles
beyond Neptune. We must have been in that lethygen
sleep for weeks."
‘*Did you see anything of Dalo Yok?" Larsen de-
manded anxiously.
*^Sure. I looked out just as he was passing out of
sight through a gap in the cliffs. He's so full of luhna
now he could hardly walk. Why so anxious about him?
There's no particular hurry in going after him."
“Oh, yes, there is!" Larsen answered grimly. He
pointed to where the anode-bar -was missing. ^AYe've no
reserve bar to replace that one, and no possible chance
of getting one, if we're out beyond reach of solar sys-
tem supply-depots, W^e've got to catch Dalo Yok before
something happens to both him and the bar. Otherwise
we may be marooned here for the rest of our lives."
As he spoke Larsen was already handing down full
equipment for their belt-harnesses from the racks in the
room. He passed up the acid-guns because their range
was too short for effective outdoor work, but included
nitrolite pistols, selithium tubes, hand-axes, plenty of
reserve ammunition, and even a tin each of concentrated
food capsules.
“No telling what we'll run into out there," he com-
mented, “so we'd better go well prepared. Remember
what happened to Yokkti's first visitors. Three of them
were never heard from again, and the fourth returned to
Mars a raving madman."
“What about one of us staying here on guard in case
Dalo Yok circles back to the ship?" Wheeler asked.
“No use doing that," Larsen decided. “Finding that
lunatic will be a two-man job, I'm afraid. He can't
move the ship if he does circle back here. Any fool can
dismantle that anode-bar, but it requires an expert to
set it properly in place again. Dalo Yok couldn't get it
adjusted right in less than a week, even if his wits
weren't hopelessly muddled with luhna. Come on,
let's go."
Stepping out through the air-lock, they swung the
heavy outer port shut and locked it behind them, to keep
any possible invaders out of the ship during their absence.
Larsen caught his breath as he saw for the first time the
starkly brilliant beauty of the scene around them. Like
Saturn, Yokku was surrounded by a giant ring, but
Yokku's ring was one of pulsing fire. Squarely overhead
the great sun-arch swept from horizon to horizon in a
rainbow ribbon of shimmering flame, wfith alternate
stripes of livid blue, emerald green, and golden yellow.
The Falcon had landed near the edge of a vast level
area of sparkling white sand that was dotted here and
there by clumps of gray feathery vegetation. Some two
hundred yards away a range of high cliffs rose, jagged
and sheer from the plain, in titanic masses of crystalline
stone, whose naked surfaces gleamed like giant sapphires
under the vari-colored rays of the sun-arch overhead.
Nearly opposite the Falcon's position the towering ram-
parts were briefly broken in a narrow pass that gashed
straight back into the range.
Wheeler pointed to where the hundred-foot walls tow-
ered on either side of the narrow portal. “Dalo Yok
went through there," he said. “He hasn't over ten min-
utes' start on us at the most. With any luck at all, we
ought to catch him."
They started out across the fine white sand of the
plain. Not a frond of the feathery vegetation stirred in
the still, dry air, and there was not the faintest trace of
a cloud in the arch-lit sky overhead. Even the air-
seemed devoid of the tiny dust particles that give plane-
tary skies of the solar system their azure hue. Yokku's
sky, save in the direct vicinity of the sun-arch, was a
dark gray-black in which the stars shone clearly visible.
Larsen glanced swiftly at the stars and saw that
Wheeler's first report had been correct. There was no
doubt that they were on Ran Yok's lost sun. That glow-
ing yellow star down near the horizon was their own
sun, now so far distant that it did not show’ as a disc to
the naked eye. Small wonder that Yokku had never 'been
discovered telescopically. Its gravity indicated that it
FLAME^WORMS OF . YOKKU
1141
was very little larger than earth itself. It was doubtful
if the telescopes of Earth or Mars could discern that
tiny radiant speck so far out in space even if they were
trained directly on its position.
With every step the men took toward the cliff they
were impressed anew with the utter strangeness of the
flora and fauna around them. The seemingly fragile
stems and feathery fronds of the gray vegetation proved
upon contact to have the unyielding hardness of ham-
mered metal. There was the same striking metallic sug-
gestion everywhere in the life that teemed in the thickets.
Crab-like crustaceans with armored backs that sparkled
as though encrusted with flakes of mica, clambered with
spidery legs about through the branches. Through the
tops of the thickets weirdly beautiful flying things
drifted in graceful flight, looking like golden nuggets set
in the center of gossamer webs of spun silver.
Scores of small lizard-like quadrupeds scampered over
the sand under the gray bushes, with chunky bodies
whose rough surfaces glittered dully like living nuggets
of copper. The manner in which the brutes fed was
spectacular proof of how utterly different Yokku's life
forces were from those of planets in the solar system.
Set in the center of the bulging foreheads on the
lizard-thing^s hideous heads was a triangular group of
three slender rod-like antennae. When a certain frond
of the gray vegetation was selected to be devoured,
strange pencil-beams of pale light shot from the tips of
the antennae, one ray blue, another yellow, and the third
green. As the rays came to a focus on the bit of vegeta-
tion a swift and startling reaction occurred. The vege-
tation glow^ed in fiery incandescence for a brief second,
then vanished in a small dense cloud of swirling oily
black vapor shot through with leaping tongues of scarlet
flame.
Abruptly the rays from the antennae ceased, and the
black vapor swiftly thickened and coalesced into a shape-
less blob of viscid ebony. A long slender tongue, three-
pronged at the tip in grotesque parody of a hand, darted
forth from the lizard-things mouth and snatched the
molten black lump with it as it returned and the bony
jaws again snapped shut.
The sight recalled to the minds of the men with new
force the words Ran Yok had screamed in his last de-
lirium. With the existence of Yokku itself already
proved to be actual fact, there was no reason to doubt
that Ran Yok had also spoken truth when he had
screamed his horror of the mysterious monsters he had
called “Flame-worms — giant flame-worms of Yokku.^^
Wheeler and Larsen searched their surroundings with
redoubled vigilance as they neared the crystalline blue
cliffs, but they saw nothing more formidable than new
droves of the small lizard-creatures that fled in blind
panic as they approached. Then they entered the pass
and for the moment forgot all thought of Ran Yok’s
flame- worms as they concentrated their full attention
on the problem immediately at hand. Somewhere on
the other side of that narrow pass through the cliffs was
wandering a hopelessly crazed Martian, carrying with
him in his blind flight a tiny bit of metal that repre-
sented their only chance of ever leaving this sinisterly
beautiful world of metal lizards and crystal mountains.
The gap was a thirty- foot- wide strip of white sand,
that cut straight back for nearly two hundred feet before
opening into another valley. Near the center of the pass
its narrowness was accentuated by a great overhanging
area that bulged out from one of the side walls until it
more than half closed the space overhead. Wheeler and
Larsen passed the overhanging area, and another sixty
feet brought them to the other end of the pass. Before
them was a circular shaped level valley, approximately
a quarter of a mile in diameter, and almost completely
walled in by the jagged mountains that rose in glittering
splendor on every side.
Their first glance showed them that if Dalo Yok were
still within the valley he was safely trapped. The only
exit from the place was through the pass itself. On every
other side mighty cliffs of sapphire crystal arose sheer
and naked for hundreds of feet.
They searched the valley floor without seeing any trace
of the Martian among the many masses of vari-colored
crystalline boulders that littered the white sand. Then
as they emerged from the shelter of the pass and started
forward, Dalo Yak made his presence known with
startling suddenness.
They were barely clear of the walls of the pass, when
there came the crashing explosition of a nitrolite bullet
against the cliff so near them that they were flung to
the ground half dazed by the concussion. Scrambling
madly to their feet, they succeeded in gaining the shel-
ter of a rock heap just as another bullet burst close
behind them.
From their shelter they soon located Dalo Yok’s posi-
tion among the jagged litter of a high heap of rocks
near the valley^s center.
‘Tt shouldn't be hard to drive him out of there,"
Larsen commented confidently. “You stalk him from
this side. I’ll take the other. Whatever you do, be care-
ful not to make a direct hit on him. If that anode-bar
ever caught the full blast of a nitrolite bullet it would be
wrecked beyond possible repair. Well just have to keep
trimming the corners around him till we get a shot close
enough to stun him. Let's go."
A swift fusillade of nitrolite against Dalo Yok's posi-
tion drove the Martian to cover, where he lay long
enough for Wheeler and Larsen to dart from their own
shelter and begin stalking their quarry. Skilled veterans
that they were in a score of similar battles upon foreign
planets, they set about their task with a methodical
efficiency, against which the luhna-cvmQA Martian had
little chance.
Wheeler worked along the left wall of the cliffs, Lar-
sen along the right. Dodging from cover to cover, coor-
dinating their attack perfectly to help each other's prog-
ress, they swiftly flanked the Martinian and drove him
from one rock heap to another, inexorably driving him
near and nearer the barrier cliffs at the valley's rear.
Dalo Yok's answering shots were wild, inaccurate efforts
that did no damage other than occasionally to shower one
of his attackers with flying sand and rock fragments.
As Dalo Yok retreated the available cover rapidly
thinned, until the only rock-masses breaking the level
white expanse of the valley floor were occasional iso-
lated boulders scattered here and there like gargantuan
jewels. The time inevitably came when Dalo Yok was
momentarily caught in the open as he dashed from the
shelter of one boulder to another.
It was the chance for which Wheeler and Larsen had
been waiting. Their bullets exploded in the sand within
a yard of the fleeing Martian. Dalo Yok was flung
bodily from his feet by the terrific concussion. He
sprawled in a limp heap on the sand, completely stunned.
1142
AMAZING STORIES
Wheeler and Larsen started toward the unconscious
figure. Wheeler was much the closer of the two. He had
nearly reached the Martian while Larsen was still fifty
yards away. Then, as WTeeler passed close beside a
huge green boulder that rose from the sand near Dalo
Yok, disaster struck with bewildering swiftness.
Before Larsen's startled eyes the great, green boulder
for one flashing moment came to life! Its jade front
gaped open, releasing blood-rtd tentacles that lashed
out and enveloped Wheeler before he could move. The
crimson tissues instantly snapped back inside the cavity
with their prisoner, and the crystal front of the boulder
again clicked shut like the closing jaws of a steel trap.
The entire incident occurred with a lighting speed that
stunned Larsen.
A moment of mad racing over the sand brought him to
where the great block of opaque green crystal towered
as stonily motionless as it had been before Wheeler was
engulfed. Roughly oblong in shape and towering upward
nearly eight feet, the thing looked somewhat like a great,
jade coffin standing on end. Long ribbons of what
seemed to be dried vegetation festooned its sides, adding
to its appearance of having stood there lifeless and mo-
tionless for centuries.
Yet Larsen knew that within that stony shell there was
hideous life — life that was probably even now smothering
the hopelessly trapped body of Bart Wheeler. The line
where the lips had closed was faintly visible in the front
wall of the stone. Stepping between the dangling brown
ribbons that trailed over the sand at the boulder's base,
Larsen snatched the heavy little hand-axe from his belt
and savagely attacked the closed lips.
For all the effect his blows had, he might as well have
been assailing the metal shell of the Falcon itself. The
green boulder did not even quiver. Larsen stepped back,
baffled for the moment.
Realizing that seconds might mean the difference be-
tween life and death for Wheeler, Larsen drove his
racing brain in an agony of effort to find a way to pierce
the crystal-armored walls. He dared not use nitrolite, ,
Any explosion violent enough to wreck that stony colos-
sus was almost certain to be fatal to Wheeler as well.
Larsen stepped despairingly forward to make a last
attempt at prying open the closed jaws. As he did so
he trod upon one of the trailing brown ribbons. The
yrtcn wall instantly split open for its full height, as if
two doors were operated by a hidden spring. Larsen's
instinctive leap backward saved him by inches from the
tentacles of red flesh that lashed out from the boul-
der's interior.
The red tissues snapped back within the thing and
again the stone jaws clicked shut, but not before Larsen
bad caught .a brief ghastly glimpse of an inner cavity
□f pulsing red membranes, among which Wheeler's
stocky body still struggled feebly.
Swift realization flashed through Larsen's racing
brain. He knew now how to make the powerful jaws
map open. Those apparently innocent, brown ribbons
were, in reality, cleverly disguised sense-organs for the
:hing. When an unwary victim trod upon one of the
ribbons, the jaws automatically snapped open and the
.ashing red membranes swept the captive inside, to be
iigested at the thing's leisure.
Larsen's lips set in a grim straight line as he snatched
1 selitliiiim tube from his belt. There was one morsel
:hat the thing would not relish. He pressed the switch
in the handle. The tube's six-inch seHthium tip— used by
explorers for both light and warmth — ^glowed in white-
hot incandescence.
Larsen warily trod again upon one of the brown rib-
bons. The jaws snapped open in instant response. In the
fleeting second they remained open Larsen flung the
flaming tube between the curtains of membrane deep into
the body cavity.
The jaws clicked shut again. For a brief second, as
the thing remained stonily motionless, Larsen thought
his ruse had failed. Then the crystal came to sudden
and frenzied life. Its festooning ribbons writhed like
tortured snakes, while the whole vast bulk shuddered and
rocked crazily on its base.
For a moment the evidences of agony continued.
Then abruptly the jaws gaped o^en and remained open
while the tortured membrances of the inner cavity retched
in a mighty effort to expel the object that was causing
excruciating pain. Wheeler's body was ejected with a
violence that hurled it ten feet away.
With Wheeler safely clear, Larsen sent a swift burst
of nitrolite bullets into the gaping body cavity. When
the explosions ceased, nothing remained of the thing but
a shattered heap of green crystal fragments and torn
scarlet membranes of quivering flesh.
Wheeler, his clothes smeared with the body juices of
the creature's maw, was climbing dazedly to his feet as
Larsen turned toward him.
''Thanks, Eric," he said weakly, scowling in disgust
as he wiped the slime from his face. "About one more
minute in that hellish thing and I'd have gone raving
crazy. I'm all right now— -just messed up a little is all.
You'd better take care of that Martian, though. He
seems to be coming to."
Heeding Wheeler's warning, Larsen promptly stepped
over to where Dalo Yok was groggily rising to his feet.
The Martian made no effort to resist as Larsen stripped
his belt-gear from him, merely staring at Larsen with
lusterless eyes that told of a brain that was hopelessly
dazed, now that his first murderous frenzy had passed.
Larsen drew a breath of deep relief as he found the
anode-bar cached in the Martian's belt-pouch.
"Find it?" Wheeler queried. "Good. Now let's beat
it back to the Falcon. I've had about all I want of
Yokku for all time!"
"I've no craving to linger here any longer," Larsen
assented. "Now that we've recovered the anode-bar we
might as well—"
He broke off abruptly as a startling outcry came from
beyond the cliffs. There was an indescribable metallic
quality in that grating roar, as of great sheets of rusty
iron rasping together. The sound lasted for nearly ten
seconds, then died away into silence.
Larsen's eyes met Wheeler's, the same thought in both
their minds. That metallic roar came from the spot
where they had left the Falcon!
Without a word, they started grimly for the pass,
dragging the still dazed Martian along between them.
When they at last emerged from the other side of the
narrow gap, they stopped short in horrified consternation
at the sight which confronted them.
The Falcon, resting there upon the sand two hundred
yards away, was enmeshed in the coils of two great ser-
pent forms, whose colossal size seemed to dwarf even
the graceful cylindroid of the space-yacht. Each of those
great serpentine figures was a full sixty feet in length,.
FLAME-WORMS OF YOKKU
1143
with bodies nearly six feet in diameter. The lustrous^
metallic^ bronze-colored scales^ that armored their undu-
lating coils, glittered with a savage and sinister beauty
under the tri-colored rays of the sun-arch overhead.
They possessed the same peculiar flame-creating
equipment that had been noted in the small lizard-like
quadrupeds, the three short rigid rod-antennae set in the
foreheads of their great ugly heads. One of the giant
worms was already focussing the pale rays of green,
blue, and yellow upon one of the Falcon^s closed ports.
Where the rays met a swirling cloud of greasy, black
vapor began to form.
Staring at the metallic colossi with blanched faces,
Wheeler and Larsen realized that they were at last facing
the monstrous things of which Ran Yok had babbled in
dying delirium. Here were the ^'flame- worms of Yokku'’
in all their appalling power and terrible beauty !
The sight of the great serpents seemed to strike a sud-
den responsive spark in Dalo Yok’s drug-colored brain.
Before they realized what he was doing he wrenched
himself free from their grip and started racing headlong
across the plain toward the Falcon^ shouting an inco-
herent gibberish of guttural Martian as he ran.
Larsen drew his nitrolite pistol. ^^Come on, Bart,” he
said grimly. ^ We've no chance to head that flying luna-
tic off, but we've got to fight our way into the Falcon
some way before those things fuse the ports with their
flame-antennae and bar us completely out.”
They started warily toward the ship. Dalo Yak had
already covered half the distance. The great metallic
worms had seen the oncoming Martian and were desert-
ing the Falcon for the moment to investigate.
The progress of their colossal bodies was a miracle of
effortless speed, as they writhed forward toward Dalo
Yok. Gray vegetation and everything else in their path
was crushed ruthlessly beneath them. Droves of the small
lizard-quadrupeds fled in blind panic before the mon-
sters' advance.
Dalo York showed no fear even when the on-coming
titans were squarely upon him. He stopped and, -with
fists lifted in pathetically futile defiance, awaited their
coming. One of the great worms trained its triple an-
tennae upon the Martian.
Wheeler and Larsen swung their pistols into line to
make a last desperate effort to save Dalo Yok, but a new
drove of the panic-stricken lizard-things came hurtling
against their legs just as they were pressing the triggers.
Their shots flew wide. They staggered for a moment,
then recovered their balance as the lizards flashed on past
them in their mad flight, but the brief delay had meant
death for the Martian.
Where his body had stood, before those lethal rays
had focussed upon it, there was now a pillar of swirling
oily black vapor, shot through with angry flashes of
leaping red flame. Then the rays vanished, and the
vapor almost instantly coalesced into a shapeless lump of
molten black. The giant worm sent a long ribbon-like
yellow tongue flickering out to enclose the black mass
with its three-pronged tip and whisk it back into the
gaping mouth.
In a revulsion of horror at Dalo Yok's hideous death,
Wheeler and Larsen flung nitrolite against the monster's
armored bodies until the explosions merged into a single
rippling crash. The rod-antennae retracted into the
massive skulls until they were little more than pointed
bulges, and the deep-set eyes were filmed over with pro-
tective plates of transparent crystal, but the giant worm-
figures held their ground with stony immobility, even
in the face of that crashing bombardment. When Lar-
sent and Wheeler at last ceased their fire they saw to
their despair that the bursting nitrolite had had no ap-
parent effect whatever upon the monsters. There was
not even a break in the lustrous bronze of their scales.
The instant the nitrolite barrage ceased the worms
began gliding warily toward the men. Larsen and
Wheeler started slowly giving ground, backing toward
the pass. Then the silent pistols seemed to reassure the
worms. They began closing in with increasing speed.
Knowing that any attempt at flight would be made
futile by the incredible speed of the worms, the men again
stood their ground and once more stopped their pursuers
for the moment with a crashing fire of nitrolite. This
time they concentrated their aim upon the hideous heads,
searching every inch of the massive skulls to find a vul-
nerable spot. They failed utterly. As far as nitrolite
was_xoncerned, the giant worms were absolutely invul-
nerable.
Again they ceased their fire, and again they had to re-
treat as the worms once more resumed their resistless
advance. This time, as their silent pistols threatened a
new outburst of speed from the pursuing worms,
’Wheeler and Larsen tried different tactics.
Instead of standing their ground and bringing the
worms to a complete halt with a concentrated burst of
nitrolite, they contented themselves with a slow steady
fire against the great heads in an effort to merely slow
their pursuers down enough to keep them at a safe dis-
tance. Their plan worked for the moment.
The bursting nitrolite, though powerless to wreak any
real injury upon the metallic titans, seemed to both annoy
and puzzle them. They slowed their advance down to a
steady, cautious progress that kept them some fifty feet
behind their retreating quarry. There was a leisurely,
almost contemptuous, quality in that slow, inexorable
advance, as though, in the knowledge of their own resist-
less power, the monsters were content to bide their time
for the moment, until the annoying explosive stings of
their puny victims should be exhausted.
Larsen and Wheeler fought doggedly on to hold the
worms at bay as long as possible, but they knew that the
final result was inevitable. Their ammunition could not
last forever. The pass through the cliffs was nearly at
their backs now. To go on through it meant being
trapped in the cliff -walled valley beyond. Yet escape to
either side of the pass entrance was nearly as futile.
They were bound to be overwhelmed in the end, anyway.
Better to make a last fighting stand and get it over
with. The pass itself was probably as good a place as
any. They were at least guarded from any flank attack
there. Larsen started to suggest the idea to Wheeler,
then abruptly stopped, as thought of the pass brought a
sudden inspiration flashing through his brain. There
was a possible weapon that might vanquish even the
colossal power of the great worms.
“Load your pistol to full capacity, Bart,” Larsen
snapped tensely. “Then give me all your reserve ammu-
nition. I'm dropping back into the pass to lay a trap
for those brutes. Keep them at bay as long as 3^our
ammunition lasts. Then break and run for it back
through the pass. I'll be waiting to cover your retreat.”
The worms briefly threatened to surge forward as
Larsen darted back into the pass, but Wheeler quickly
1144
AMAZING STORIES
increased his fire to a smashing fusillade that again
brought them nearly to a halt. Larsen raced on back to
where the wall bulged out in that titanic overhang. Be-
ginning about twenty feet above the floor of the pass,
the overhanging area extended for nearly seventy feet
along the wall.
Larsen took the first likely spot he found, a shallow
cavity in the wall just under the center of the overhang.
Dumping all the reserve nitrolite from its safety con-
tainers, he made a compact pile of the deadly pellets in
the niche. There was enough nitrolite in that small pile
of blue“black capsules to annihilate a city. It required
only one smashing blow to set the whole thing oflf.
He hastily packed rock fragments around the explo-
sive to divert as much of its force as possible against
the cliff face, leaving a yard- wide hole through which to
send the bullet that was to explode the pile.
Just as Larsen finished his hurried job, Wheeler's
ammunition was exhausted. Larsen heard Wheeler's
fire abruptly cease as Wheeler came racing to’ward the
pass. Larsen dashed twenty yards beyond the mine spot
to get as far as possible from the terrific blast of the
nitrolite. Then he dropped to one knee to steady his aim
as he trained his pistol upon the niche.
Wheeler, his face contorted with effort as he forced
every last ounce of speed from his stocky body, was
barely beyond reach of the racing worms behind him as
he entered the pass. The pursuing titans abruptly slowed
down as they saw Larsen ^vaiting ahead of them with
leveled pistol. For a moment they came to a full halt,
watching Larsen's motionless figure with shielded eyes,
apparently expecting the tormenting hail of nitrolite to
start against their faces again.
Wheeler raced on past the overhanging area to safety,
and flung himself flat on the ground beyond Larsen in
response to Larsen's tersely worded command. The
worms' hesitancy vanished as Larsen's pistol remained
silent. They started cautiously forward again, their
great glittering bodies seeming to nearly fill the pass as
they advanced side by side.
Larsen's eyes glowed in satisfaction. The situation
was ideal for his plan. With the worms advancing
abreast as they now were, he had an excellent chance of
getting both of them.
He held his fire for a long tense moment. Then, when
both the great ugly heads were squarely under the over-
hanging cliff wall, he sent a single bullet hurtling accu-
rately into the niche where the nitrolite lay.
There came the sharp report of his bullet exploding,
almost instantly blotted out in a terrific blast of fire and
crashing chaos that seemed to rock the very universe.
Larsen's senses reeled for a brief second in the cata-
clysmic fury of that blast. Then something crashed
against his forehead, bringing swift and complete
oblivion.
He struggled back to consciousness to find Wheeler
working over him, “A rock fragment bounced off your
skull," Wheeler explained briefly. ''Why didn't you get
farther away before setting off that blast, you idiot ?"
"I got as far away as I could and still be able to get
a shot inside the niche," Larsen answered. "Did it
work ?"
"Did it work?" Wheeler retorted. "Boy, you brought
a whole mountain down on those brutes! Get up and
take a look."
Larsen staggered dizzily to his feet and saw that
Wheeler's statement had been no exaggeration. For a
distance of nearly thirty yards the pass was chocked
with a chaotic mass of great jagged blocks of blue crys-
talline rock. Crushed and broken beneath those count-
less tons of rock and crystal were the bodies of the two
giant worms. The only remaining traces of their great
metallic figures were a few torn shreds of bronze-scaled
flesh among the rock rubble at the edge of the mass.
"We'd better climb on out of this place before the
noise of that battle attracts some of the brutes' little play-
mates," Wheeler suggested.
Climbing over the ragged pile of fallen rocks was a
precarious task, made doubly so by several remaining
Imasses high up on the shattered cliff wall that threatened
to fall at any minute, but they made it without mishap.
Leaving the pass they quickly crossed the plain to the
Falcon. They opened the entrance port, then stopped
and turned for a last look back at the pass.
As they looked they saw one of the precariously bal-
anced masses high on the shattered cliff tremble for a
moment, then go crashing down. The great block struck
against the crystalline boulders in the pass with a clear
ringing impact that the acoustics of the narrow gap
magnified until it was oddly like the single chiming note
of a giant crystal bell struck in requiem over the shat-
tered bodies of the mighty flame-worms of Yokku.
The End
Stellarite
{Continued from page 1134)
i second before opening the portals of the airlock, and
he 'Baron held out his hands, one hand to Campbell and
)ne to me.
"My friends, we have been comrades through untold
iangers; there is no need for us to pledge friendship,
for friends we are and friends well always be. We
will take another trip to the stars at some not distant
time, nicht wahrf^
"To the stars, through bolts and bars!" I quoted,
as we grasped hands instantly.
The End
AMAZING STORIES
1145
Book Reviews
*^Druso Oder Die Gestohlene Menschenivelt!^ by Friedrich
Frecksa. Published by Herman Reckendorf G. M. B. H,,
Berlin S. W. 68, 317 pages, Mark 3. — about 75c,
T he title in English would mean approximately : DrusOj
the Scourge of Humanity or Humanity Kidnapped. The
book is a description of the events which are supposed to
happen ^ when a wandering planet used as a spaceship by its
superscientific insect-like creatures captures earth by ruse,
and ruthlessly subjugates humanity. The book starts in the
year 2000, painting a glorious picture of the heights of science
and ^ culture reached by humanity. It describes in interesting
detail, how the Asiatic States were forcefully compelled to
abandon their plan of world conquest, and the ushering in of a
general world-peace.
Suspended animation had been perfected and it had become a
custom to select about 100 suitable persons representing all that
was best in the arts and sciences and put them to sleep for 99
years. When they were awakened they were supposed to check
up on everything to see that nothing had been overlooked in
the development of the human race. To be selected as one of
the sleepers was considered the highest possible honor. Our
hero ^‘Alf’’ and his wife “Judith'^ enter the long sleep, and
Judith was the first woman with child to do so.
A few years after starting their long sleep humanity has
been tricked into allowing the wandering planet “Druso’^ to
approach, and soon the “Drusonians^^ become masters of the
earth. Everywhere they set up regional commanders and by use
of hypnotism and mesmerism and by sheer power of their
superior intelligence thej^ made slaves out of unresisting humanity.
Wars were encouraged and bye-and-bye humanity sank to as
low a level as the cave men. The Drusonians, who were ant-
like insects but far ahead of Earthmen in science, ordered the
destruction of all machines, factories, libraries, seats of learning,
etc., instilling in humanity a hatred of all metals, except iron for
warfare and gold for its demoniacal influence.
A small band of scientists had fled to the North Pole, where
they were trying to liberate the Earth. Drawing their conclusion
from old legendar^^ records a few of them set out to locate the
temple of sleep and finally in the year 2300 the temple was
located and the work of resurrection begun.
Being unable to follow the explicit directions, only four were
revived, Judith, Alf, Flins and Hurst, the rest perished.
These four awakened ones were looked upon as gods, because
the scientists hoped for a revival and re-discovery of lost
sciences.
They were not disappointed; soon a large selective Televisor,
a “far seer” and a “far hearer” were constructed, which operated
without a sending station, a subterranean power station was
relocated and the atomic engines were repaired. Judith’s child
conceived 300 years ago was born, and called “Uraura,” and
mother and child were revered as Gods.
Plans were made to liberate the Earth from the yoke of the
Drusones, and they were hastened by the abduction of Judith
and Uraura.
The northern scientists, who call themselves Atlantideans in
memory of Atlantis, having helpers and supporters everywhere,
smuggle the other three awakened ones aboard a Druso bound
spaceship.
Arriving there they meet an Earthman, Cassaniak, who is
waging a successful guerilla war on the insects, and with his
help, Judith and Uraura are liberated and the whole party
reaches Earth safely.
While on Druso, they saw through their “Far Seer” the use
to which the constant stream of men and women brought to
Druso were put. They were being slaughtered like cattle and
worked over into food products for the Drusonian insects.
Barley landed on earth, Alf gives the signal to start ^ a
general destruction of all Drusonian stations, and by releasing
enormous masses of energy through their atomic engines, they
see that Druso is forced to leave its position in the heavens.
An attempt of Druso to throw the moon upon the Earth is
also frustrated, and the Earth is finally liberated.^
The work of re-construction begins. A few regional Druson-
ian masters are captured alive and by compelling them to use
mass-hypnotism, humanity is put back on the upward path of
civilization.
I have seldom read a book which kept my interest alive to
such an extent as “DrusoT It is magnificent in its conception,
marvelously well done, thoroughly and always plausible. Its
action moves along at an agreeably swift pace, and its logical
development leaves the reader breathless with pleasure. It is
worth being translated into English.
C A. Brandt.
This Mechanical World
This Mechanical World. By Morton Mott-Smith, Ph.D. D.
Appleton & Co. $2.
T HIS^ is an excellent book for the boy or the adult who
desires an acquaintance with the elements of mechanics.
Despite the unavoidable difficulties in presenting his sub-
ject-matter, the author writes in a simple and entertaining style,
and is at all times easy to follow. It is true that, in a volume
of little more than two hundred pages, he can attempt only
the slenderest introduction to the tremendous universe of physics :
but he has accomplished all that he has undertaken, and has not
only made the fundamentals of his subject plain but will probably
inspire most of his readers with a desire for further investigation
and study.
In his opening chapter, Dr. Mott-Smith reminds us of the
supremely irnportant part that mechanical ideas have assumed
in modern life ; and he points out that our whole civilization
could be paralyzed if not destroyed were one tenth of one per
cent of our citizens suddenly to be killed-provided that that
one tenth of one per cent represented the mechanical experts.
The rest of us, being ignorant of physical laws, would be help-
less to save ourselves ; hence it is the author’s view that, while
no such calamity is likely to occur, all of us should have some
understanding of the physical workings of the world about us.
In the following chapters, accordingly, Dr. Mott-Smith tries
to provide the beginnings of such an understanding. He opens
by explaining the meaning of density in the scientific sense by
relating the incident of Archimedes and the alloyed golden crown ;
he discusses the question of the vacuum and of the manipulation
of force by means of the lever; he tells us of Galileo and the
establishment of the modern science of dynamics ; he has chapters
on the law of inertia, on the effects of acceleration, on the
independence of motion, on the conservation of energy, on
Newton and the new cosmos, on the law of gravitation, on mass
and weight, on kinetic and potential energy, and on other sub-
jects of fundamental importance. And topics he treats as in-
terestingly and as thoroughly as his limited space permits.
S. A. C.
*^The Magical Powers in Man^^ or ^Wild Talent by Fort.
Published by Clande Kendall, 70 Fifth Avenue, New York.
342 pages. $3,00.
T his volume is a sort of unillustrated “Believe it or Not,”
from newspaper clippings all over the world. Anyone, who
has any acquaintance at all with newspaper work, will know that
nearly all items pertaining to things scientific or near-scientific
are usually so garbled, distorted and inaccurate that they are
worthless to all intents and purposes. Yet to Mr. Fort any
and all newspaper reports are the ultimate in veracity, and he ap-
parently places full credence in even the most obscure sheet.
True enough, many curious things happen on this planet of
ours, murders, fires, disappearances occur with deplorable
frequency and Mr. Fort labors with unflagging zeal to establish
all kinds of correlations.
It seems that the purpose of this present volume is the
establishing of proof that the world is still peopled with sorcerers,
wizards and magic and that there are a few people gifted with
what Mr. Fort calls “Wild Talent” which enables them to
start fires at will, make other people disappear, make them-
selves invulnerable to pointed and edged weapons, bullets, etc. etc.
As in all his previous books, he flatly contradicts any science;
to him the earth is flat^ as a pancake and he really ought to
team up with Mr. Voliva the sage of Zion City, if only for
mutual praise and consolation purposes.
His style of reasoning is, to express it mildly, somewhat
peculiar: exempli gratia as they say see page 201 “I now have
a theory that, of themselves, men never did evolve from lower
animals : but that in early and plastic times, a human being
from somewhere else appeared upon this earth, and that many
kinds of animals took him for a model, and rudely and grotesquely
imitated his appearance, so that, to-day though the gorillas of
the Congo and of Chicago, are only caricatures, some of the
rest of us are somewhat passable imitations of human beings.”
On page 288, he reasons thusly: “Or a moth sat on a skull- —
and so it rested, with no more concern that it would feel upon
a stone. That a human being came suddenly upon the skull,
and that from him a gush of mystic fright marked the moth—
The Death’s Head Moth.” This is really a wow!
C A. B. -
1146
AMAZING STORIES
March, 1933
In this department we shall discuss, every month, topics of interest to readers. The editors invite correspondence on all
subjects directly or indirectly related to the stories appearing in this magazine. In case a special personal answer is required,
a nominal fee of 26 c to cover time and postage is required.
A LETTER OF CRITICISM AND APPRE-
CIATION FROM IRELAND
Editor f Amazing Stories;
Having broken the Discussional Ice several
times, I am again launching into the columns
of nagging strife and flattery, though merely as
a completely neutral observer. I wonder am
I wrong, but I think “Discussions” is becom-
ing a species of battle-ground, in which even
the celebrated Dr. Smith scorns not to wage
verbose combat. However, be it far from me
to make irritable and touchy protests, for cer-
tainly these literary tussles are most enter-
taining. What do you think?
At one time, I had determined to issue a
list of stories which I had found most enter-
taining in their respective volumes of “A. S.”
Reflecting upon the thought, I began to won-
der who the heck cared about what I liked
(hint). Anyway, the lists would be too long
and effusive. However, to be in the fashion, I
might as well record my immense appreciation
of the Skylark Stories. Boy, those were the
stuff to give the troops! (Faintly; “Any
chance of reprints?”). I can almost see The
Editor shouting gleefully: “No-o-o, N(3i”
Oh, by the way, I said something acrid about
love-interest in our stories, and I’m glad to
say that I %vas quite unaffected by the remark
which you made in the footnote to my letter
in which it appeared, viz; that Ireland was the
last place you would expect such an opinion
to come from. I reiterate what I said, and
want to add more. The manner in which the
heroine carries on is excessively nauseating.
It all goes to prove that love-interest is al-
together incongruous in Science-Fiction. More
— ^the idiotic female proceeds to fall into grave
danger with tiresome regularity, no matter
what the plot is. It is then evident to the
lowest form of intellect exactly what is going
to happen. The hero, with tensed jaw, goes
to the aid of the fair girl, nearly, but not quite,
gets killed, and gets away with everything,
including the heroine. Yah. One day I’ll
write a story, and there will be a different
climax for the hero and his girl.
Anyway, before I forget it, I want to tell you
that you have a great magazine, and if it does
fall down once in a blue moon, who cares ?
If a fellow gets a bad egg one morning out of
365, does that mean he should give up eating
eggs? (Though, really, Ed., I did once get a
very bad “meggazine” which I repudiated as a
forgery of “A. S.”) By the way, the covers
are becoming very excellent; keep it up. There
are two rivals of yours however, who still beat
you In the cover line. They happen to possess
better artists, I imagine. Your inner illus-
trations are not so hot, and I think they are
very indistinct.
I still consider Amazing Stories the high-
brow of the three important Science-Fiction
magazines on the market, and will always
derive considerable gratification from reading it.
Best wishes.
Fitz-Gerald P. Grattan,
11, Frankfield Terrace,
Summerhill South,
Cork, Irish Free State.
(Our comment on this letter may be put in
a few words — that it comes from Cork and
bas a true Irish touch to it. We were greatly
amused and entertained by the Dr. Smith and
Miss Robb controversy. It was amusing to
see how the Irish lady, in perfect good humor
and politeness, held her own against Dr. Smith,
and this gentleman from Ireland simply ex-
presses his opinions definitely, but after all his
criticism ends up with a very nice little com-
pliment. We are always glad to get letters for
the Discussions from distant lands. But Eng-
land is getting about a day closer every few
years by steamer and when the great trans-
atlantic airplanes start going, it tvill be very
near us.— E ditor.)
MORE ABOUT MISS ROBB AND DR.
SMITH, SLANG AND ITS EFFECT
UPON LANGUAGES
Editor, Amazing Stories;
Allow me to present a new plot to authors.
The villain persuades his victim to insert a
letter in the Discussions Column of A.S. asking
for back numbers. From this point, the vic-
tim’s slender resources are gradually depleted
by the cost of acknowledging all the applica-
tions received. Finally a point is reached,
when, tottering upon the verge of insanity, he
decides to ignore all future inquiries!
Henceforth the exquisite mental torture, oc-
casioned by abusive letters on the score of
discourtesy, commences.
I must say my letter of over a year ago was
highly successful, as I obtained all the copies
I required except the first five issues. Those
who, in the past, have had no reply from me,
will now, I hope, forgive me.
During the temporary lull in hostilities be-
tween Miss Robb and “Doc” Smith, perhaps a
diffident Briton, tea-cup in hand (as per pub-
lications abroad) might be allowed to venture
forth upon the battlefield.
Miss Robb’s ragged banner attracts me, if
only for the reason that her army so far con-
sists of one, to wit an heretic American. To
some extent her arguments consist of calcu-
lated exaggerations with which I cannot asso-
ciate myself. “Apostles of expectoration” is
going a bit too far. I do think, however, that
there is an underlying basis of truth in some
of her conclusions, and for this reason sup-
port her.
I do not propose to join issue in the wordy
battle on the matter, as I consider a great
deal too much valuable space has already been
wasted on it.
I would only draw attention to one aspect
of slang so far not touched upon.
I think it is agreed that the language factor
is one responsible for much of the hostility and
mutual suspicion that exists between the na-
tions. If we all spoke the same tongue, the
path to international peace and world progress
in the future would be considerably smoothed.
Particularly is this so having regard to the
promise of the days to come in respect of the
annihilation of distance.
The day is not far distant when a week-end
on the other side of the globe will be a com-
monplace.
It therefore appears to me a regrettable
fact that if slang maintains the same ratio
of progress, a few centuries will see an Ameri-
can language as different from English as Eng-
lish is from German. This, I submit, would
be a major calamity to the world.
Before beating a strategic retreat to the
teacups, which authors overseas for some un-
known reason so frequently inflict upon us,
may I anticipate the suggestion that the danger
be averted by the English learning slang, with
a well and truly aimed shower of teapots.
D. G. Lyle, Yours w'earily,
21 Marlborough Rd.,
Bradford, Yorkshire,
England.
P.S. With all due respect to Mr. Campbell,
who after all is only a young man, any com-
parison between his works and Dr. Smith’s
does not rvarrant one moment’s consideration.
P.P.S. Thanks for the monstrosities Mr.
Editor.
(We are sorry to say that we have endless
difficulty in getting the back numbers we need
and desire, so perhaps your plot with the Edi-
tors of one of the victims might go very well.
In the Robb-Smith discussion as far as “Apos-
tles of Expectoration” goes, we would suggest
that you read Charles Dickens’ “American
Notes” and his novel “Martin Chuzzlewit.” He
becomes quite eloquent on that subject of spitting
in America. The writer would be ashamed t©
tell you how many years he has lived i»
America and during his lifetime the detestable
habit of spitting has greatly decreased. The
difference in language may be taken as an
indication of a difference of race, so perhaps
it would be well to say that the difficulty be-
tween nations is due to race idiosyncrasies
rather than to dictionaries and grammars. There
is absolutely no danger of English and Ameri-
can people forming two languages. — Editor.)
THE NEW COVER— STORIES IN THE
JANUARY ISSUE. A LINE OF
ENCOURAGEMENT
Editor, Amazing Stories:
I have been reading A. S. for about a year
but this is the first time I have written to you.
First of all I want to compliment you on your
new type of cover. I think it is much better
than the old kind.
The stories in the January issue are not
quite as good as the ones in the December
issue but they are good. I like them in the
following order:
1 — The Pool of Death by Bob Olsen.
2 — The Last Earl by Franklin Ryan.
3 — The Treasure of the Golden God by A.
H. Verrill.
4 — Omega the Man by Lowell H. Morrow.
5 — Radicalite by Richard R. Murray.
6 — Delilah by Margaretta W. Rea. (What
is science fiction about this story. Ans., Noth-
ing. It is worse than The Doubt in the Feb.,
1932, issue.)
All the same I like your magazine and ex-
pect to read it for a long time.
Hoping you keep up the good work, I am,
Raymond Ingersoll,
380 Clinton Ave.,
Brooklyn, N. Y.
(It is amusing to see how you classify our
stories and it is gratifying to see that you put
at the head of the list the stories that we
thought were particularly good. The curious
feature of the thing is that objections which
we feel are uncalled for, have been made to
these very stories which you admire. “De-
lilah” has science in it, it is a description of
of somnambulism and of what may be done by
a victim to this very strange phenomenon. We
are going to keep up the good work.—EDiTOR.)
MORE ABOUT THE NEW COVER.
COMMENTS OF STORIES. ALL THAT
CAN BE SAID IS THAT TASTES DIF-
FER. THE LORENZ-FITZGERALD CON-
TRACTION
Editor, Amazing Stories;
I regret that I can’t start my letter with
the proud lines, “I have read your (our) maga-
zine since April, 1926,” but I suppose the fact
that I have read all Amazing Stories, Month-
lies, Quarterlies, and Annuals since Oct., 1927,
will have to be sufficient warrant for this
missive.
It is the habit of most early readers to claim
the superiority of the magazine in “the good
old days.” In my humble opinion, however,
the last few issues of 1931 and the first few
issues of 1932 represented A. S. at its height.
Its nadir was in the spring and summer of
1929. At present I feel that the magazine,
though still on a high standard, is traveling
on a level, with the usual slight variations,
just below the aforementioned heights.
John Campbell, Jr., is by far the author
which I hold in highest esteem. The sheer
magnitude of his imaginative creations leaves
one gasping for breath. His lengthy explana-
tions in support of his theories, far from being
text-l^okish, are highly interesting and are
colored by the personalities of Arcot, Morey,
and Wade. These explanations show at least
that the author’s ideas are the result of thought
and calculation and ' not merely the spontaneous
fancies so easy to conjure up when unsup-
ported by any theory or as association with
some prtsent-day process ©f thought.
March, 1933
AMAZING STORIES
1147
One, or several, authors have used for their
theme the fact that when a space ship passed
the speed of light^their length would be a minus
quantity (or rather an imaginary length, ^nd
that this condition would cause the ship to pass
Into another dimension. Now, when an object
is traveling at the above rate, it would have
an infinite inertia and so it would take an in-
finite force to accelerate it any further. As
a matter of fact, no power conceivable could
accelerate it the last few feet per second per
second.
I don't object to the use of slang in stories,
but Dr. E. E. Smith was certainly not judi-
cious in several of its applications, for instance,
when Seaton made his replies to the dignified
Marmondalian savant. Next to Mr. Campbell,
however, Dr, Smith is my favorite author. As
a writer, in regard to style, etc., etc., be is
superior to the former, but he is surpassed
in the science and imagination.
It seems that A. Merritt is immensely popu-
lar among A. S. readers. Personally, I feel
that at best his stories are merely grown up
fairy tales.
Congratulations on the excellence of your
new style cover. While formerly its undue
lavishness created among on-Iookers an asso-
ciation with weird tales and ghost stories in-
stead of its actual scientific contents, I now
find that the present cover which is so sug-
gestive of science belied itself when among
the present contents there appeared such a
grossly fantastic tale as the “Last Earl.” It is
a cruel thing to accuse any author of plagar-
ism, but it seems to me that every vampire story
I have come in contact with has followed the
exact plan of the above-mentioned tale. It
contained nothing which could be called sci-
ence. I certainly do not believe that the mere
mention that sun rays MIGHT affect the brain
cells and a shady reference to some machine
(the details of which were avoided by the old
plan of assuming a scientific ignorance among
the readers) is sufficient reason for using up
many pages of a supposedly scientific maga-
zine, The only other story in the January
issue which I have sa far read was “Omega,
the Last Man.” Th*' was indeed an excellent
and entertaining tale.
There are hundreds of ideas which I would
like to express but I'm afraid that I have
already exceeded a conservative space limit. I
will conclude, that despite my few brickbats
A. S. has afforded me many entertaining hours
of reading and has stimulated many mental
controversies. It is outstanding in its particu-
lar field.
Cyril Endfield,
S3 7 Monroe Ave.,
Scranton, Pa.
(Your letter tells its own story. Dr. Smith
has won^ great praise with our readers, with
Mr. Campbell a close second. Many of our
readers you will find differ with you in your
estimation of “Omega,” and of “The Last
Earl.” This is an example of the woes of
an Editor, He wants to please everybody but
this is impossible. We thank you for your
appreciation of our efforts. — Editor.)
AN ADVOCATE OF THE OLD TYPE OP
COVER
Editor, Amazing Stories:
I received quite a shock when I saw the
cover of the January issue of Amazing Stories.
I knew that there would be a change, but I
did not expect such a drastic one. Why did
you take the familiar block letter title off and
why do you use but one color? We are not all
the self-conscious type who are afraid to read
in public, magazines with bright colored covers
illustrating fantastic looking scenes. Amazing
Stories is a fiction magazine and should not
use the type of cover on the January issue.
I hope that the majority of your readers
do not favor the new cover, and ask for the
return of the all-color cover in which a scene
in one of the, stories is illustrated. Also for
the return of the old title.
I would like to see the old Amazing Stories
return. The old Amazing Stories we used to
haunt the newsstands for.
Its covers w^ere colorful and well done. Its
illustrations were also well done and not the
poorly drawn kind now used in most cases.
Its stories were interesting throughout. Plenty
of action and science and not too miicfi or too
little of either. I refer to the years up to the
middle of 1929. Since then Wesso was dis-
covered but he was used in comparatively few
issues on the cover and little more inside the
magazine. Paul and Wesso are the only artists
who have done good science fiction illustrating.
Please bring them back.
“The Last Earl,” although a good story,
does not belong in Amazing Stories. It is
not scientifiction. I was surprised to find it
in the magazine.
“Delilah” is another unscientific story. It
was quite dull reading.
The stories for the next issue look good.
Jack Darrow,
4224 N. Sawyer Ave.,
Chicago, III.
(Our correspondent is an exception to most
of those who have referred to the new cover,
as he prefers the old type. “Delilah” is a
study of somnambulism and it certainly, in the
colloquial dialect, kept you guessing to the end.
—Editor.)
THE NEW COVER
Editor, Amazing Stories:
Congratulations upon the first progressive
step Amazing has made since 19261 It merits
praise from every scientifiction fan — may I be
the first to offer it.
Linus Hogenmiller,
502 N. Washington,
Farmington, Missouri.
(We are putting together the letters in which
reference is made, pro and con, regarding our
new cover. They will illustrate one thing —
that there is no accounting for tastes — most
would like to have the new and one prefers
the old covers.- — E ditor.)
COMMENTS ON STORIES IN THE
JANUARY AMAZING STORIES
Editor, Amazing Stories:
I have been a constant reader of your maga-
zine since the first issue. I read the first
issue in the St. Louis Public Library and have
purchased a copy of every issue since then.
I was very much surprised and disappointed
at the contents of your January number. You
have changed the cover scheme, which is all
right, for the cover is attractive and striking,
but in changing the cover you have apparently
completely changed the character of the maga-
zine itself.
The first story, “The Treasure of the Golden
God,” cannot by any stretch of the imagina-
tion be called Scientific Fiction, it is the type
of romantic adventure that one would look for
in the Argosy. “The Pool of Death” is a very
poor imitation as far as the science angle is con-
cerned of similar stories that have already been
printed by you. The mystery part is different from
the style of stories you usually print, but the
story belongs to a detective magazine rather than
to Amazing Stories. The next story, “The Last
Earl,” is the type of story one would look for
in another magazine and certainly does not
belong in a magazine of this particular type.
“Delilah”, is also a weird stories type and
Is not suitable for your magazine. “Omega,
the Man,” is perhaps the most disappointing
of all. First, it is terrifically depressing,
which is a bad feature in these particular
times, when we need stories of progress and
achievement, rather than stories of complete
defeatism. However, apart from this unpleas-
ant feature, there are so many inconsistencies
in it, that I wonder how it ever got by. , The
part of the story, where Omega and Thelma
settle down beside the last pool of water,
which is apparently the final concentration of
one of the oceans, formed in one of the ocean’s
deepest valleys. It tells of a slight vegetation
around the shores of this lake, an utter impos-
sibility, for this lake would be a concentrated
brine, similar to the Great Salt Lake in LTtah,
with an even greater salt concentration than
that lake has, and it could not sustain any
kind of life in or around it.
The story “Radicalite” is built around an
important error of fact, which spoils it for
anyone who knows the real facts. This error
is, the supposed use of Radicalite as a sub-
stitute for platinum as a catalyst in the manu-
facture of sulphuric acid, and that anyone find-
ing a cheap substitute for the platinum would
make untold amounts of money. As a matter
of fact, such a substitute has been found,
vanadium now being used instead of platinum,
and I don’t think anyone is making “untold
amounts of money” from it.
Walter X. Osborn,
Gila Bend,
Arizona.
(The word scientific has a much broader
signification than many of our readers give it.
Anything that is known definitely, may be
called scientific. The term is not restricted
to physics and chemistry by any means. In
the very story you speak of — “The Treasure
of the Golden God,” by A. Hyatt Verrill, we
have anthropology, "which is a science, which
has appeared in many of Mr, Verrill’s stories,
who is certainly a distinguished anthropologist.
He absolutely knows his subject and it is a
privilege to get such stories from authoritative
souices. The Pool of Death” is highly orig-
inal and not an imitation. “Delilah,” carr 3 r»
ing a mystery based on somnambulism down to
the last few sentences of the story, was emin-
ently fitted for our pages. There is one com-
fort, however, you do like our new cover and
"vve are gratified at your expression af appre-
ciation thereon, — -Editor.)
THE NEW COYER. “THE LAST EARL”
CRITICIZED UNFAVORABLY
Editor, Amazing Stories:
When I bought my latest copy of Amazin t;
Stories, I was so completely flabbergasted (to
use a mild expression) that I thought the con-
servative publishers of the magazine had sud-
denly caught the new art craze.
According to custom, I suppose I should be
expected to go into tantrums and irrelevant
ravings, ^ denouncing the outrageous action of
the publishers in giving us such terrible trash,
But, contrary to custom, I may honestly say
that the new makeup of the magazine is en-
tirely satisfactory.
The art cover of the January issue, done by
A. Sigmund will probably be one of the things
that mill increase our mag's circulation. To
me, and I ani^ one who appreciates the new
arty cover illustrations, it is certainly a
wow!
of the magazine has been wonder-
fully improved, although some of the stories
are not exactly up to standard, and when I
say standard, I am referring to that set by
the type of stories written by Coblentz, Keller
Vincent and Verrill. But — where there are
roses, there are brickbats, although the kind
I am about to hurl into the editorial masticat-
ing organ is one of extremely soft composi-
tion.
I refer to one of several stories published ia
your latest issue; namely, “The Last Earl”
^ No doubt you have heard of the old saying:
“There’s a time and place for everything”—
well, ^there's certainly a place for stories such
as this type. And it s not in a magazine cater-
ing to a materialistically minded public, like
Amazing Stories.
Can you imagine one of your old reliables
settling himself into his favorite chair pre-
pared to digest the latest news about the I. F.
P. or the exploits of Captain Brink and coming
upon a story of a type commonly known as
weird fiction?
Can you further imagine this simple, trust-
ing soul wading into the mass of irrelevant de-
tail about “Vampires” and “were-wolves” and
eery Roumanian castles, with ghosts groaning
on the floor every half inch or so?
Can you imagine the end, when your former
reader, enraged and maddened by what he had
read retreats to the county bug house there-
to end his days reading something nice and
prosaic like the “Ten Nights in a Cairo Deti”
and “How to Die Early If At All”?
No, you simply can’t, for the memory ot
such a scene would drive any STF respecting
editor along to the bug house with the reader.
And with Ye Ed. out of the way, where would
our mag be at?
With best wishes for the Doctor, Miss Olive
Robb and the rest of the scientific fraternity,
I close,
John B. Michel,
1094 New York Ave,,
Brooklyn, N. Y.
P.S. Kindly excuse me for forgetting to ia*
elude the magazine ia the last two lines.
1148
AMAZING STORIES
March, 1933
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OPPORTUNITY AD-LETS
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(We have little comment to make on your
letter except to say that we are gratified to
publish an appreciation of the new cover.
You will find one of Coblentz’s stories,
really his best, in the Quarterly; you will find
a story by Verrill in the January and Febru-
ary issues. We have several stories on our
desk by Vincent, one of which we hope to
give in the April number, and we have just
received within a few days a story by Dr.
Keller. We specify these four authors to carry
out the exact expression of opinion in your
letter, so you see that you are feally bein^
taken pretty good care of. We never knew
that we catered to a materialisticly minded
public. We shall let your letter sp^k for
itself and we can only emphasize the fact that
we do not agree with you and that we are
certain that there are thousands of readers who
differ from you in their opinions. — Editor.)
LACK OF KNOWLEDGE. THE TEM-
PERATURE OF SPACE _
Editor , Amazing Stories: a
I am surprised at the lack of knowledge ex-
hibited in your reply to Mr. L. M. Swift in
the November issue of your magazine. Y
As an argument against h!s theory th^
space may be warm you cite the example of
a pilot in a plane who encounters great cold
at high altitudes, and there you stop. May 1
refer you to page 693 of the November issue
of Populm Mechanics where you will find
summed up man’s knowledge of temperatures
at high altitudes. This article shows that
definite measurements of temperature have been
made by instruments carrying balloons to a
height of about 22 miles. Results; The lowest
temperature reached was about -—60'’ and that
was in the stratosphere; i.e., less than 19 miles
high. From the top of the stratosphere to
the maximum altitude reached of 22 miles the
temperature rose and it is estimated that above
25 miles the temperature of space is approxi-
mately equal to that on earth.
The estimate you can deny; the recorded
temperatures you can not.
The proof of the pudding is in the eating,
you know.
J. F. Galbraith,
235 Lincoln Ave.,
Dolton, Illinois.
(If you will divide 186,000 miles by 22, and
use that as the denominator of a fraction, with
unity for its numerator, or if you prefer it,
divide 22 by 186,000, you will have a frac-
tion of a light-second that your figure of 22
miles amounts to. Now if you will multiply
the number of seconds in a year by four and
one-half, you will have the light-seconds which
it takes to get anywheres n^r the nearest
star. What then can the variations of tem-
perature within 22 miles tell about outer space?
A light year, inconceivable as it is to tis, is
a convenient unit used by astronomers. If
you do venture out a few light-years into
space, we strongly advise you to take plenty
of wrappings. Presumably, outer space is al-
most a vacuum. Can you imagine a vaciitiin
having temperature ? — Editor. )
AN APPRECIATION OF THE NE^
COVER DESIGN. “THE POOL - O*
DEATH ADMIRED
Editor, Amazing Stories:
First, just a word about the. cover ©f
January issue of “our” magazine. It’s great!
I believe it is the biggest improvement you’ve
made to date. Sigmond is good as the artist,
but let’s have one by Muller. If there is
anybody that could draw a modernistic cover
it would be he. As editor of a high school
newspaper that Is as modern as a Victorian
highchair I certainly like to see such covers
as yours.
I seem to have an unbounded craving for
science-fiction movies.
I have been following with interest the
“Smith-Robb Controversy.” As far as 1 am
concerned I like slang in the stories. I also
believe that our future language will be based
upon our modern slang. (Sound funny?) Just
compare our present-day English with that ©f*i
about 500 years ago. Undoubtedly much
it would have been termed slang then.
March, 1933
AMAZING STORIES
1149
I Rave had time to read only one story in
tMs issue: “The Pool of Death/* If the rest
of the stories are but one-half as good, then
this issue has set a precedent.
There have been so many good stories printed
lately in the magazine it is becoming impos-
sible to say ■which is the best although
“Tumithak of the Corridors** is the one I*ve
remembered longesf. I also remember that
there should be a sequel.
Hoping that you continrte your march of
improvement — *
Vernon H. Jones,
134 Franklin Ave.,
Des Moines, Iowa.
(We appreciate your remarks about the new
cover. We will continue using this type of
cover for a while before making any change
in the artist and in this %vay we will get the
opinion of our clientele. “The Pool of Death,**
based on the life history of amoebas, has par-
ticular merit as it carries the mystery to the
end and the story in its earlier i>arts gives the
basis for the production of the giant creature
that took two lives. We can only say about
“Tumithak of the Corridors’* that we hope to
publish the sequel soon.- — Editor.)
THE NEW COVER— MORE LIKE IT
ASKED FOR. A FIRST LETTER FROM
A CORRESPONDENT
Editor f Amazing Stories;
I have been a reader of your magazine for
about five years now, this being my first letter
to you. jAy ircaaoTi 'fjiViba'S i' 5 > X
Just purchased the January issue of Amazing
Stories and I want to congratulate you on
the cover of it. To me, it is the most striking
cover I have seen on your magazine in the
five years I have been reading it. It seems
to me that it fits the magazine better than your
other covers. The interior of your magazine
is different than others and now you have a
cover that fits the interior; it’s different. I
would like to see more covers like this. Your
stories are all right although of course there
are some that I don’t care for. You can’t
please everybody.
Paul H. Mefferd,
3740 Maxwell Road,
Toledo, Ohio.
(You will undoubtedly see many more cov-
ers similar to the one on the January issue.
We would like everyone to like ail our stories,
but we must recognize the fact that that is
an impossibility. — Editor.)
RELATIVE MERIT OF RECENTLY PUB-
LISHED STORIES AND ILLUSTRA-
TIONS
Editor i Amazing Stories;
Another science-fiction magazine I buy re-
cently reduced in price to 15c and in content
to 64 pages. I was relieved when Amazing
Stories came out to see that it had not made
a similar change. I don’t mind reduction In
price, but I do mind reduction in quantity, I
would rather pay 25c for 96 pages than 15c
for 64.
In our November issue of Amazing Stories
I found the stories so close in quality that it
was hard to place them in order of merit.
Here is my decision;
1. “The World of the Living Dead.” Well
t(Jd and interesting.
2. “Captain Brink of the Space Marines.”
I hope that this is the first of a long series
of tales about Captain Brink.
3. “The Doom of Lun-Dhag”- — ^another Lar-
4. “The’ Man Who Lived Twice.” The
strangest time-traveling story I’ve yet read.
5. “The Finger of the Past.” Plenty of
laughs in this one.
Morey’s illustrations , vary quite a bit in
quality. I have made a list of his best illus-
trations below.
His best drawings were done for: “Dragons
of Space” and “The Flying Threat” in Spring,
1930, Quarterly, “South Polar Beryllium
Limited” in August, 1930, Monthly, “The
Man Who Annexed the Moon” in February,
1931, “Atomic Fire” and “Too Many Boards”
in the April, 1931, Monthly, “Extra Galactic
Invaders” in Spring, 1931, Quarterly, “The
Jameson Satellite” in July, 1931, Monthly,
“Sky Cops” in December, 1931, Monthly, “The
Planet of the Double Sun” in February, 1932^
Monthl}^ “The Lemurian Documents in May,
1932, Monthly.
His best covers on following issues: Fdiru-
ary 1931, Spring 1931 Quarterly, March 1932,
May 1932, July 1932.
If you will compare them with his other
illustrations, I think you will agree with me
that they are much the neatest looking and best
done. If only all his illustrations could be
as good. I wish he would pay more atteiition
to the faces of the characters. Most of the
time they do not look human.
Wesso’s best illustrations were done for
“Skylark Three” and other stories published
at that time.
Jack Darrow,
4224 N. Sawyer Avenue,
Chicago, 111.
(The desire of an Editor of a magazine is
to please his readers and incidentally to give
them good material. We have no idea of re-
ducing the size of Amazing Stories. Our
only wish is that we could make it still larger.
The fate of our artists seems to be to receive
all sorts of criticisms. Some readers like pic-
tures which others object to. It is interesting
to think of the possible changes for the better,
but until the depression is over, it is hard to
see our way clear to do anything In the v/ay
of expansion. — Editor.)
A NICE LETTER FROM A YOUNG
READER OF AMAZING STORIES
Editor, Amazing Stories;
1 have just finished reading the November
issue of your wonderful magazine and want
to comment on your excellent work, “The
Doom of Lun-Dhag” sure was a whoopee. It
kept me guessing all the time how it would
turn out. Have a heart! Don’t keep a fellow
waiting so long! “The World of the Living-
Dead” is a peach of a serial though I hardly
can bdieve anything can beat the “Metal
Doom,”
Three cheers for Harl Vincent! He cer-
tainly scored in “Paster Than Light.” Keep
up the good work Vincent and you’ll knock
’em cold.
Here is a list of some other good stories
I’ve tackled.
L “The Lady of Light.” 2. “Room for the
Super-Race.” 3. “The Super Man.” 4. “Seeds
of Life.” 5. “Voice Across the Years.” 6.
“The Planet of the Double Sun.” 7. “The
Return of the Treipeds.” 8. “The Sphere of
Death.” 9. All of the “Lemurian Documents.”
10. “Spacehounds of I.P.C.” 11. “The Burn-
ing Swamp.” 12. “The Blattids”
These are just a fraction of the stories I
have read.
If I should try to comment on all of your
stories, you would go blind reading so much!
But I can say that your stories as a whole
are the best Science Fiction Stories ever born.
I am a boy of fourteen, and would enjoy
corresponding with any “Science Fiction Bug.”
Here’s hoping you keep up the good work.
Robert Swem,
3000 Reisertown Road,
Baltimore, Maryland.
(We are confident that this very nice letter
from one of our younger readers will lead to
correspondence such as he desires. Such ap-
preciation of our efforts, as you give, makes
one feel that perhaps your remarks are in
the line of flattery. We hope that we have
really deserved such comments. — Editor.)
AN APPRECIATION OF THE AUTHOR
OF “THE GREAT INVASION OF 1965”
— J, DAVID REID
Editor, Amazing Stories:
I am a reader of your magazine and I see
by the October number you have a new writer,
J. David Reid, I sure enjoyed his story, but
it was too short. I am interested in chemistry
and there is lots of truth in “The Great
Invasion of 1955.”
I hope you will have Mr. Reid write a longer
story next time. I was just enjoying it when
it came to . the end.
John Berrett,
529 West Sharp Avenue,
Spokane, Washington.
(The story you refer to is extremely inter-
esting and also the fact that it is a chemical
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1150
AMAZING STORIES
March, 1933
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^ AMERICAfi MATCIS SLANTS 00,
Bern* .a-l, 6 W, RandoWi St*.* CillCAaD,
story is attractive, as chemistry does not seem
to lend itself very well to fiction. We hope
to get more from this author because we are
very glad to find chemistry taking a more
prominent part in our columns. We shall
certainly hope to hear again from Mr. Reid.
• — Editor.) •
AN AMUSING LETTER HALF OF AP-
PRECIATION — THE PRONUNCIATION
OF SCIENTIFICTION
Editor, Amazing Stories;
I have been a reader of Amazing Stories
for several years and have never yet written
in my opinions or ideas. I therefore think that
it is about time to start.
There is not much that I can say about
the last issue, that is, the December Amazing
mag. “The Serial’^ is one of the best within-
the-earth stories that I have read, I am ter-
ribly sorry that the Lemurian stories are fin-
ished. They were certainly good while they
lasted. The story by Dr. Keller made me
think that the usually dependable writer of
Scientifiction had gone crazy all of a sudden.
He shows his usual ability to write novel
stories but this story belongs more in the library
of an insane asylum than in a dignified sci-
entifiction mag. By the way, since I first
read Amazing Stories I’ve been puzzling over
the pronunciation of scientifiction-. Maybe you
could enlighten me. To get back to the mag,
when I saw the word ronsal in “Roadways
to Mars,” I investigated and found that it
was by the author of “Thia of the Drylands.”
The latter was a very good story but the
former did not impress me as being what is
known as “so hot.” Maybe I’m the kind that
like to find fault but regardless of that I
think that the drawings on the covers are too
sombre in color. The picture is very well
drawn but poorly painted. I’ve found this
to be true for the last 15 months. I have
nothing but praise to offer for the general run
of the stories and if you continue to increase
the number of stories per issue at the same
rate as you are now doing the mag will be
colossal.
I have nothing more to say and perhaps it’s
just as well if I’m going to be as cheerful
as that. So long until to-morrow as Lowell
Thomas would say (or is it Lowell Thomas?)
Harold Kirshenblit,
928 New Lots Avenue,
Brooklyn, N. Y.
(If you will read the sub-title of Dr. Keller’s
story to which you object, you will see that
we entirely disagree with your criticism. It
has the true touch of some of Edgar A. Poe’s
tales, a strange bit of the grotesque runs
through it. As regards the pronunciation of
scientifiction the less time you devote to pro-
nouncing it, the better it will be. It is not
a true word and the correct idea can be ex-
pressed by the term science-fiction. We have
radically changed the cover and you will find
various expressions of opinion of readers about
it in these columns. We presume that we may-
say that we are doing our best. The writer
does not feel that doing one’s best is enough;
we must always try to do a little more. — •
Editor.)
AN UNUSUAL APPRAISAL OF THE
WORK OF TWO DISTINGUISHED
AUTHORS. BACK ISSUES ON
HAND
Editor, Amazing Stories;
I have read your magazine since the July
1926 number and never missed a copy of either
the Monthly, Quarterly, or the Annual issues.
I think the best .story I have ever read in
either of these magazines was “Moon of Doom”
by Bell, in the first edition of the Quarterly.
You have some fine authors now and they
certainly -write some fine stories. I like Keller,
Cloukey. Breuer, Verrili, Neil Jones, Taine
and others too numerous to mention, I don’t
like Edmond H. Hamilton and Ray Cummings
?rorie 3 because they rehash the same old plot
every time.
If any readers want back issues I have
copies ot both Monthly and Quarterly maga-
zines, dating from 1923 until the present which
I vvill J.ispo'ss OS.
Leslie Ray,
Kettle, W. Virginia.
(This letter speaks for itself and requires no
comment. The fact that you have back issues
that you can supply, will interest many of our
readers. — Editor. )
THE NEW COVER. COMMENDATION
OF A. HYATT VERRILL’S WORK
Editor, Amazing Stories;
This is my first letter to you although I have
subscribed to A. S. for nearly two years and
have read it regularly long before that. The
January issue of “our” magazine is the “silence-
breaker,” It’s a wow! First of all a change
of covers that really makes the magazine dis-
tinctive and secondly a new serial by that
writer of writers — A. Hyatt Verrili! Re-
member “The Green Splotches” by him? Fond
memories! But this “Treasure of the Golden
God” to my mind surpasses all his former
efforts in breath-taking suspense and genuine
skill in writing. Also Verrili knows what he
is talking about, which makes it all the more
interesting.
One heavy brickbat. Why make poor Morey
carry all the artistic burden of our mag. ?
How about a couple of modernistic interior il-
lustrations by Sigmund, Wesso or Paul?
Well, the oracle has spoken. Deep silence
Robert Tufts,
61 Rathbun Avenue,
White Plains, N. Y.
(This breezy letter expresses high approval
of our new cover and we are glad to see that
the writer of it welcomes Mr. Verrili, who has
been absent for several months from our pages.
We hope to have more of Mr. Verrill’s stories
in the future. The brick-bat is not a very
heavy one, and there are distinctive reasons for
having Mr. Morey do our work. He is doing
better and better as the days go by — Editor.)
WE ARE GLAD TO GET SUCH LETTERS
AS THIS AND ACCEDE TO YOUR RE-
QUEST WITH PLEASURE
Editor, Amazing Stories;
As I have been a reader of Amazing Stories
for over a year, I thought you might publish
this letter for me.
I read three Science Fiction Magazines and
I want to admit that yours tops them all. No,
I have no brickbats to throw at any of your
authors, or you, or at that artist of artists~-“
Morey.
Now, to compliment you on the October issue.
Boy, it was a honey from cover to cover — they
were all excellent stories, I just finished “The
Swordsman of Sarvon.” Boyt it was all right.
But the best complete story in my estimation
was “The First Martian.” It was the first
story I have read by that author.
I would like to see a sequel to Williamson’s
“The Stone from the Green Star.”
If any Denver readers would like to write
to me, I will answer letters — all of them.
Weil, Mr. Editor, will you put this letter In
the “Discussions” Columns — from an ardent
reader from Colorado.
Olon F. Wiggins,
916 — 28th Street,
Denver, Colorado.
(We certainly take pleasure in publishing
your letter and we are very glad to see Mr.
Morey receive a due meed of appreciation.
“The Swordsman of Sarvon” is by a very
young author and he certainly got plenty of
brio into his work. We hope that this letter
will bring you correspondents.-— Editor.)
“THE MAN WHO LIVED TWICE” COM-
MENDED— A SEQUEL ASKED FOR
Editor, Amazing Stories;
“The Man Who Lived Twice” is the best
story by far that you have ever had. My
congratulations to William Kober for a fine
piece of work. How about a sequel?
John Leon,
Rensselaer, New York.
A REQUEST FOR “MORE OF A. HYATT
VERRILL.” NOTES ON MISS ROBB AND
DR. SMITH
Editor, Amazing Stories;
I have been reading the Amazing Stories
for many years and this is my first attempt
at the Discussions Columns, I have enjoyed
every issue and hope to enjoy many more.
March, 1933
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1151
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sale at all newsstands I 144 pages of thrilling
tales of interest to all .scientifically-inclined
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*‘Th© Man from Tomorrow^^ by Stanton A.
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its dramatic conclusion I
“^The Mother World^’ by Bruce and G. C.
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g© unexpectedly— a story that smashes present
day ideas of evolution and gravitation— a tale
of adventure on a planet many light years
distant from the solar system!
®^Cele8tlal Pioneers’^ by J. G, Ohmert and
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Among the stories I liked best were, of
course, ‘"The Skylark of Space” and succeed-
ing stories by Dr. Smith. The bombshells
hurled between Miss Robb and Dr. Smith were
interesting. What happened to A. Hyatt Ver-
vill? He is the best author you ever had.
Other stories such as “The Swordsman of
Sarvon” will go far In making Amazing
Stories.
I have about sixty issues of Amazing Stories
which I will sell at cost price. I do not have
them in compete order, but I will sell those
I have, Let me know if anyone wants them.
Here’s hoping for a long life for Amazing
Stories and peace in the ranks of Miss Robb
and Dr. Smith. Also more of A. Hyatt Verrill.
Robert Kidol,
Cream Ridge,
New Jersey.
(These few lines are quite interesting, touch-
ing upon the Miss Robb and Dr. Smith con-
troversy and you will find your question about
A. Hyatt Verrill now being answered, and we
hope to have plenty of work from him in the
near future. He is not the only author, who-m,
in the press of work, we feel that we have
neglected so you will realize that you are going
to be well taken care of in the future.-— Editor.)
WHY DO INDIANS PAINT THEM-
SELVES? FINDING THE NORTH BY
MOSS ON TREE TRUNKS IN THE
TROPICS
Editor, Amazing Stories:
I have just finished reading the first install-
ment of “The Treasure of the Golden God.”
It has prompted me to ask two questions
regarding this story.
First, what benefit did the Indians derive
from painting their bodies black?
Secondly, why does not the “old scheme”
work in the tropics? By that I mean, why
can’t one tell the direction of North by observ-
ing the moss on the trees?
Will you please enlighten me on these two
questions ?
Donald Schol,
251 New York Avenue,
Newark, New Jersey,
(As far as benefits go in painting the body
black, we may suppose that the Indians made
themselves less conspicuous in the jungle. In
the colder regions of the earth the growth
of moss upon the trees is supposed to be
affected by the cold winds, but in the tropics
the conditions are so different that it is hardly
to be expected that the points of the compass
could be determined by moss on trees. — Editor.)
A LETTER- ALMOST TOO COMPLI-
MENTARY EVEN IF IT DOES SPECIFY
AN ERROR IN RADIO IN ONE OF OUR
STORIES
Editor, Amazing Stories:
In the current (December) issue I find the
second and concluding installent of Ed. Earl
Repp’s well-written story, “The World of the
Living Dead.” As splendid an author as
Mr. Repp appears to be, his description of the
radio transmitting apparatus will cause a ripple
of amusement among radio enthusiasts and
experts. I seriously doubt if even the late
Mr. Burbank could successfully cross spark
and vacuum tube transmitters together to any
conceivable advantage. And what breed of
radio transmitter is equipped with a “spark
plug”? However, we shall have to forgive
Mr. Repp his single little technical error in
view of the fact that he has given us another
breath-taking tale of adventure.
The three representatives of the Soviet Inter-
nationale depicted in “No More Tomorrows”
by the inimitable Dr. Keller, and pictured by
Morey, are masterpieces of horror. Three
more repulsive individuals it would be difficult
to imagine. Their written description causes
the goose-flesh to rise mountainously, and the
illustration — ugh! It’s so ugly that I like it!
“Death by Radio” is weak, and considering
the trend of present-day development highly
improbable. Yet the improbable has In the
last few years of progress so often come to
pass that any adverse criticism based on im-
probability is hardly justifiable.
“The Shadow World,” by Sophie Wenzel
Ellis, is a delightful, gossamer thing, a vivid
picture of a world at once beautiful and ter-
rible; “The Call to Migrate” create a situation
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that could hardly be any worse than the pres-
ent one in wheat, and “The Vibration/’ by
Edwin K. Sloat is a fine piece of scientific
thinking and from the standpoint of physics
anjThing but impossible. That “jovianite”
would have to be po\verfui stuff, although there
is no telling what it might do if aided by
natural forces.
I take the greatest pleasure in reading your
magazine: it is my pet belief that your pages
are a source of inspiration to inventors, scien-
tific workers, and all those interested in the
scientific and intellectual progress of the world.
I would welcome any correspondence from your
readers; I delight in receiving the ideas of
others, and in peaceful and harmless argu-
ment, especially if conducted at a safe distance.
Charles B. Bradford,
Rt. 4, Box 255,
San Jose, Calif.
(You are the second correspondent who has
complained of Earl Repp’s radio transmitting
apparatus. Dr. Keller, in his story, “No More
Tomorrow's” certainly distinguished himself.
In the sub-heading, we spoke of its having a
touch of Edgar Allan Poe about it, w'hich was
certainly quite true and you put it very w'dl
in what you say. In the “Call to Migrate” the
idea w’as to raise the price of wheat and they
succeeded in doing it until the riot broke out,
but the trouble "was that the poor farmers did
not get the benefit of the increased price per
bushel as this was presumably, or supposed to
be, reserved for the conspirators who very
properly failed in their endeavors. — Editor.)
THE MECHANICAL EQUIVALENT OF
HEAT AND- THE PERIOD OF VIBRA-
TION OF THE EARTH
Editor, Amazing Stories:
I have been buying the Amazing Stories
Magazine at the news stands for about a year.
It is one of the most interesting magazines I
have ever read, which is saying a good deal.
Now for the brickbat. This is a serious mat-
ter in a magazine claiming to be devoted to
science fiction. There are certain unalterable
constants of nature, which are matters of ob-
servation regardless of the exact form of
natural laws. Some of the chief among these
are the well-known ratio, pi (3.1416 , . .), the
mechanical equivalent of heat, the mass of a
hydrogen nucleus at rest, etc.
The way in which authors ignore these
constants in writing science fiction is enough
to make Sir Isaac Newton, the founder of
mathematical physics, turn over in his grave.
I enjoy a good story about time travel, fan-
tastic new inventions, interplanetary voyages,
but I do not enjoy seeing the mechanical
equivalent of heat or some other natural con-
stant manhandled.
In particular do the authors sin against the
mechanical equivalent of heat. The chief
trouble seems to be that they do not. realize the
large value of this quantity, that it takes the
same amount of energy to heat a pound of
■water through one degree F. as it does to raise
a weight of 77.3 pounds one foot. By the time
you have heated 100 pounds of ivater tw'enty
degrees, you have expended the energy in a
field artillery projectile at the instant of dis-
charge, to say the least. This fact has a very
important bearing on the almost totally miracu-
lous (and physically unworkable) heat ray gun,
wdiich seems the favorite weapon of the science
fiction writer. In order that the heat ray gun
could barely kill a man, to say nothing of burn-
ing holes in the body and destroying liis
clothing, the weapon must be capable of de-
veloping the energy of a French 75 at the time
of discharge. And yet one finds episodes in
the stories where the characters use these or
similar articles, of about the size and weight
of a revolver or flash-light, to melt down brick
walls and to cremate their enemies as they
slaughter them. To accomplish these things
represents an expenditure of energy that makes
Big Bertha look like a popgun. And yet these
wonder weapons never have to be reloaded,
and they never get heated, never go bad and
kill the user, in spite of the well known rule
that the more intensely concentrated a source
of energy is, the harder it is to control.
Another thing, in order to kill instantly, the
heat must be released in the interior of the
body. The surface tissues can be burned to a
crisp over a small area, and the victim recover.
And electromagnetic radiation expends its heat-
ing effect where it is stopped and animal tissue
is a poor conductor of heat.
One other thing, I should like to take up.
That is the matter of the period of free vibra-
tion of the earth. In the December issue of
Amazing Stories, the story, “The Vibration,”
by Edwin K. Sloat, has the period of vibration
of the earth as exactly one hour. This is rather
off the mark. Using a formula given by Har-
low Shapely in Mount Wilson Contribution
No. 92, I find the correct period of free vibra-
tion for the earth is 1 hr. 52 min. SO sec.
This is only another example of the lack of
scientific knowledge some writers of science
fiction show.
Ncah W. McLeod,
Christine, N. D.
(You must not assume that the heat ray
gun, -which is of course an imaginary concoc-
tion, is subject to the laws affecting true pro-
jectiles. If they could transfer the intense
heat over a distance, it does not follow that it
is subject to the laws of recoil of ordinance.
We are glad to get your correction of the
figure of the earth’s free vibration. — Editor.)
THE NEW COVER. MORE ABOUT A.
HYATT VERRILL
Editor, Amazing Stories:
Sainted shades of our master Gainsborough I
Here’s our old flame all dolled up in a demure
blue dress that brings out all her personality.
And here’s A. Hyatt Verrill back. Well,
British Guiana is familiar territory to him.
So far he is behaving himself and doing Ms
romanticizing in the fields about which we have
no facts (and there are certainly plenty.)
My friend Lloyd Merryfield is going to have
a lot of us fantasy fiends down on him for his
remarks aiient Lady of Light. That may be a
fairy tale, but it’s certainly at the peak of such
creations, I don’t think Merritt could have done
much better. But don’t misunderstand me. In my
fantasy I want nothing which our major prem-
ises regard as impossible. True fantasy is out-
side them, using them as an endoskeleton, while
ordinary science fiction is built up inside them,
as if in an exoskeleton. The latter is in its
very nature armored, and you know how we
crabs tear into one which has a weak spot or
hole in its carapace. But we know that the
great bulk of the fantasy is mere protoplasmic
padding, and admire or condemn it upon the
basis of outward form or shape, and this is
of course to a certain extent dependent upon
the skill with which, first the frame is con-
structed, and secondly properly covered. If
either is weak, or inadequate, or deformed, the
fantasy suffers much more than would the
body of an ordinary story, and is judged ac-
cordingly. So all hail to the conqueror of
these difficult media, and their proper co-
ordination.
It seems to me that John Michel is exceed-
ingly short in his estimation of the length of
time that slang has been developing. The whole
history of language is mainly one of simplifi-
cation, and of the substitution of less cumber-
some words and phrases. Any term not general-
ly accepted in literary and “polite” phraseology
is slang whether its undesirableness is due to
youth or age of the particular word involved.
I prefer (and this is of course but my personal
attitude) less “literary” conversations in my
stories.
Clifton Amsbury,
Secretary, ISA,
1312 Q Street,
Lincoln, Nebraska.
(You stand up for the “Lady of Light” on
the basis of being a fantasy fan. Undoubtedly
a certain amount of almost pure fantasy comes
into our columns and one of our most admired
stories, “The Moon Pool” is definitely in great
part fantasy, yet it was greatly admired and
appreciated. We feel, seriously speaking, that
such a story as the one you refer to lightens
up our pages and prevents them from being
too heavy. If we were to look over our early
numbers, we could see various stories that
•^vould have been better if a little fantasy had
been grafted on them. Referring to slang,
the Latin poet Horace, writing about two
thousand years ago, says that it is all a ques-
tion of usage whether a - new coined word shall
be accepted into the language. — -Editor.)
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